Bella Swan is Fat and Ugly
by Aubrette
Summary: A mature re-working of Twilight. Why does Edward want Bella so badly? Because she smells like hope, because she is hope for him and his family. Why, in turn, does Bella love him? Because underneath the glitter and the mystery he is just a lost, lonely boy looking for a friend. He's still just a kid. They're just two teenagers, falling in love. Oh, and vampires. M because of James.
1. Meet Cute Gone Wrong

_**Author's Note: **Welcome to _Bella Swan is Fat and Ugly_, a look at what would happen if Bella was **not** a fragile slip of a girl! Please take the poll on my profile to let me know your biggest peeve with the Twilight series, maybe I can fix that for you ;)_

_All hail Smeyer, the birthing-mother of the great and supernatural population of the mostly-fictionalized town of Forks, Washington! Without her fever-dream scribblings we would never have the delightfully twisted pairing of Bella-klutz and Eduardo, the first Sparklepire! Enjoy!_

At this time in history

We are to take nothing personally,

Least of all, ourselves!

For the moment we do,

Our spiritual growth and journey comes to an end.

-Thomas Banyacya, Hopi Prophesy to the Nation

**Part the first: The set up**

First bell, first period, homeroom.

There was only one new student this year, which made her entrance all the more anticipated. Edward read a book, trying to ignore the hum of voices. There were only three home rooms per grade, and he happened to have a front seat to see the new girl's arrival.

He didn't care. In such a small town any infusion of new blood was always met with hope and dreamy romance; would she be beautiful or would she be sexy? Would she be wild? She was the daughter of the local Sheriff. There were boys who hoped she would be demure with long lashes and a quick blush, and then there were boys (and girls) who wished she would be rebellious and loud with a curious mouth. Edward did his best to ignore the aspirations of the hormonal youth.

She was late and she was an almost perfect candidate for modeling. She had high, broad cheekbones, slim hips, slender wrists, and most importantly she was tall enough: six feet. She was just an inch shorter than Edward himself.

The teacher was at the front of the class, writing out the word of the day (_opprobrium_) and glancing at various papers when Edward heard the simultaneous sigh of disappointment from male voices across the room. The female voices were dripping with relieved condescension. Her super model structure was hidden by generous rolls of fat. Edward didn't need to look, he saw it already. She was an overweight, badly dressed, nervous-looking girl made awkward by her height.

"Please take a seat, Miss Swan," the teacher said, "and see me after class."

Edward returned to his book and wouldn't notice the new girl again until Biology, three hours later.

This time, when she entered the class, he was breathing. The new girl was late again and the only open seat was next to him. He exuded an aura of fearsomeness and cold. _Find another seat_, he commanded with his presence. As she clumsily unloaded books, binders, bags and a coat (didn't she realize she had a locker?) he sighed peevishly, allowing her scent to tickle his dessicated lungs.

He froze, his eyes locked on the girl. Her sloppy gypsy-black hair was pulled back in a rubber band, her button-down shirt didn't fit properly and he could see a peek-a-boo hole between two buttons. She was wearing a nude-colored bra, cheaply made. She kept hitching up her pants and fussily flipping through binders, trying to find the section reserved for Biology. She had dark, hairy eyebrows.

But this is not what disturbed him. It was not her pathetic unpopularity, it was not pity. It was intense, lurid, menacing attraction. She smelled incredible. She smelled tasty. A sea-change occurred in Edward Cullen. He went from the aloof beauty King, content to drift through high school existence, to predator. A charming smile cracked his features.

He began to plot various plausible situations where the new girl would end up dead and he would saunter away, bloated and ecstatic. He edged his seat closer to hers. The teacher was engaged in the uselessly redundant task of rewriting last week's assignments on the board, but it gave Edward time.

"Hello, lab partner." He said leaning in towards her perfume. She smiled nervously, avoiding his eyes.

"Hi, my name is Bella. So we're lab partners for the year?"

"Why yes, Bella. A fortuitous circumstance. You appear to be an intelligent and interesting young woman, and I look forward to getting to know you better. My name is Edward. Cullen. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Uh, thanks." She looked confused and Edward's quickly darkening eyes turned dark like congealed blood. He realized that on top of smelling savory-sweet, she was also completely silent. Her mind was empty. He ventured confirmation of her superlative stupidity,

"What is your favorite color? –No! Let me guess."

She stammered and stared. The popular, handsome—scratch that, gorgeous boy was significantly more weird than she had anticipated. She liked weird but was completely caught off-guard by his irregular beauty. He stared back at her intently, listening for a brain wave flicker. She got the feeling that he was a magician, trying to read her mind. She raised an unwaxed eyebrow.

"Orange?" He finally said, smoothly.

"Ochre." She said, but sounded surprised, "You got the 'o', that was pretty impressive actually."

But Edward was not impressed. He had not heard a peep from her brain and she had clearly been thinking. He had hoped she was uncommonly ignorant. In fact, she was irritatingly elusive. His eye twitched.

Bella, unnerved by the attention and twitching, turned back to the front of the class, trying to take notes. But Edward wouldn't have it. He stretched along the table, leaning on his elbow and getting his face close to hers. He turned on the dazzle.

"Ochre, really? That is utterly fascinating. I would love to learn more about you, Miss Bella Swan. Can I give you a ride home after school today? Maybe we can talk about… colors." He smiled and smoldered and instinctively inhaled, feeling the empty recesses of his marble body vibrate in a collective purr of pleasure. Such a delicacy, and she was all his. He would take his time and lure her away. She wasn't going anywhere. She'd never escape him.

"Actually, I have my own truck," the words came out with a note of pride and Edward's eye twitched again. There was meaning laced behind that smile of hers and he could not read it. He grew hungry. "But thank you." She gave him a polite smile and tried to turn back to her studies, kicking herself for rejecting this gorgeous boy. Yet she was suspicious of him. In the context of their respective popularity he was being far too friendly. Her smooth forehead and vacant gaze did not alert Edward to any of her cogitation.

She pretended to ignore him, not wanting to make a bad impression on yet another teacher, but Edward was infatuated.

"That's funny, because I actually didn't drive to school today!" He forced a small, quipping laugh, "Can I get a ride home with you, then?" Smolder, smile, licks teeth.

"Edward, I really need to pay attention to class; I can't get in trouble again," Bella hissed, shaking her hair out of a ponytail and hiding her face behind the jet-black mess. What a bonkers town this turned out to be, she thought to herself. Her hair released the divine scent and Edward met it greedily. Warmth, pulsing heartbeat, the smell of replicating cells and that slight electric buzz characteristic to the human body: Edward was overcome.

He felt the blood-lust fill him. He had welcomed it too heedlessly, he had been overzealous. He had wanted to kill her in his magical meadow of pondering, his secret place where he could crack her open like a crustacean and suck dry the difficult bits. But there was a venomous salivation in his mouth and he stood awkwardly, putting distance between himself and his prey. Not here, he warned himself, not yet.

"Mr. Cullen? Is everything okay?" The teacher directed his voice to the back of the class.

"You're right!" Edward said, crazily responding to the teacher's thoughts instead of words, "It's allergies or blood sugar. Blood—" he was shaking his head, confused and dizzy. The animal was breaking out and he suppressed growls. Bella stood, concerned for the teenage-vampire who wanted to kill her,

"Edward?"

"Miss Swan, please escort him to the nurse's office, it's just down the hall," the teacher said dismissively, trying to recover the class' attention. Bella stepped forward, about to take Edward's arm and shoulder him over to the nurse's but her sudden proximity was too much. Unable to vamp and unable to control himself, Edward's body did the only thing it could: it fainted.

The whole class let out a shocked "Ah!" of surprise as the ethereal figure crumpled to the floor. Bella knelt down, cupping her hand under the back of his head, gently feeling for blood. Her cop dad, Charlie, had taught her basic first aid when she was little but she couldn't remember it clearly. The teacher was struggling through the crowd of students, trying to reach them at the back of the lab.

"Edward? Are you okay?" His skin was chilly and she noticed how deathly pale he looked.

Suddenly Edward's eyes flashed open, a coal black solid, and a hissing gasp snarled his lips. Frightened, Bella dropped his head, hearing a sickening crack against the concretex. Her hands flew to her mouth in shame and embarrassment—that is definitely not what you are supposed to do with an unconscious person.

_Mulligan_, she thought to herself, holding back tears. _I want a do-over._ This day was going all wrong.


	2. Hello, Nurse!

In the nurse's office Bella was asked to stay behind to answer some questions. Bella knew that this was her fault—she had handled the situation badly, another blot on her record of unpopularity. She had looked forward to starting anew in Forks—four hours into her first day at school and that hope was already lost.

As a fat girl Bella was used to seeing her obesity muddle and ruin her life. Whenever she was picked last, jostled in line, ignored at a dance, or got sick for no apparent reason she always knew it was because of the shameful and poisonous weight gathered around her body. The fat made her ugly and sick and weak, and she imagined that it also made her stupid and ridiculous. Somehow she knew that had she been thinner she wouldn't have dropped Edward's head onto the concrete lab floor; maybe he wouldn't have fainted at all. These sorts of things do not happen to pretty girls.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drop him—" she began, feeling hot tears pressing at the backs of her eyes. The nurse's stern expression didn't help. Bella hunched her shoulders under the weight of unwanted responsibility. Of course she should have known something was wrong with Edward. Pale, slender, he was a romanticized consumption victim; she should have seen the signs. He must have had an aneurysm; a seizure that made him flirt with someone like Bella Swan. Her throat seized back a sob.

"We'll call his father," the nurse threatened idly. Bella was an easy target for derision despite her height; she curled protectively around herself, accepting the fault and blame for the world at large.

She heard Edward's voice from behind a curtain refusing treatment and demanding his older sister be called to the office so he could speak with her. There was something special about his voice, it was mature and rich despite his sickly pallor and frail constitution. It gave Bella hope that maybe he wasn't as sick as she had thought. Perhaps he just had a touch of albinism, Bella thought to herself. But that is nonsense, she remembered, you are either albino or not; just like one cannot have a "touch" of pregnancy. His eyes were too unnervingly dark and his hair a shimmery copper red reflected in his eyebrows and lashes—he had pigment, just not a lot of it.

"_Doctor _Cullen will know what to do with him," the nurse continued, "You can explain how you dropped the boy's head to _him_." Bella nodded bravely, biting down on a trembling lip. So she was to be interrogated. That was okay, she told herself, Bella was the daughter of gruff Sheriff Swan. She could withstand questioning. She imagined an older version of Edward staring angrily at her and asking what she had done to his precious child. For some reason, the figure in her head had a white mustache and a haughty accent.

In a moment seemingly disjointed from the events at hand, a celebrity strode into the office. She was young, blonde and powerful. Her beauty was superhuman and everyone, even the nurses stepped aside for her. Bella wondered who she was: surely someone famous. Bella looked around herself, waiting for the paparazzi to show up. She had knee-high boots over skin-tight denim with a simple turtleneck tucked in to emphasize her small waist and pugilistic bust. The long-legged blonde disappeared behind the sea foam curtain to harangue her little brother.

There was a barely suppressed cacophony and a hissing susurration agitated the privacy curtain. Bella strained to hear the conversation: something like _Who touched you?_ The beautiful girl pulled back from the curtain, composing her face into sugar and dark lashes.

"Can I take Edward home? He didn't eat well earlier and his blood-sugar is dangerously low."

"Is he diabetic?" Bella asked compulsively. The daughter of a cop, she was always too curious. The blonde's eyes snapped at Bella and it was as if the frumpy girl hadn't existed until Rosalie acknowledged her. Bella was unable to meet her gaze—alongside the perfect waves of blonde hair she had pale caramel eyes that only brought out her loveliness. The girl took a measured breath and smiled, keeping her unblinking eyes on the new girl for a little too long.

"I'm afraid we have not been introduced, my name is Rosalie Hale. I am Edward's sister and I am very grateful to you for bringing him in. No," she continued, answering Bella's question, "Edward is not clinically diabetic. We have a shared blood condition which is usually manageable _if we act responsibly_." Rosalie aimed the last sentence at the grumbling boy still hidden behind the curtain. Just then Bella realized where she had recognized Rosalie Hale: she was a dead ringer for the Swedish actress from _La Dolce Vita_.

"We'll patch Edward up in no time. I apologize for all the fuss."

Bella was fiercely intimidated by this vixen. She nodded and moved aside to let Rosalie pass. But the pretty blonde with the sharp features wasn't done with her yet.

"Thank you," continued Rosalie, her voice arresting Bella by the door. "I know my brother is hard to handle. We'd love to have you over for dinner sometime," she gave a weird smile that was somehow enchanting and insane. Bella smiled back reflexively and heard Edward make a sharp laugh followed by something unintelligible behind the curtain.

"Thanks, but it's no problem. Really. I have to get back to class," and she quickly left the nurse's office, muttering to herself,_ I wish _I_ had that blood condition_. Edward had the pretty facial structure of a porcelain doll, yet somehow he made the feminine cheekbones and pouting lips masculine and attractive. It was probably the richness of his voice, matured beyond his wiry body. Rosalie had a withering sort of beauty, the kind that overwhelms those surrounding her. Bella could already feel the jealousy and self-loathing frothing in her stomach. She didn't go back to class, instead she went to the bathroom, where she splashed water on her face and tried to digest the debacle.

She had known she would be unpopular, she just wanted to blend in and finish her last two years of high school unnoticed before going off to a nice college somewhere. She just had to endure two more years before real freedom would be hers. But now she was tangled in some sort of drama with the class heartthrob. He wasn't attracted to her, he couldn't be-nobody really was. She stared at herself in the mirror, her problem skin shiny from the water. She had thick, straight eyebrows and unruly hair: thanks, Dad. Her chin was strong, which only brought out the fact that she had two of them. Her cheekbones were wide, which only made her chubby face rounder. She had to keep her hair long or else she was routinely mistaken for a boy.

What had Edward been doing, talking to her? Had he been playing some kind of joke on her, like the kid who told her to take the elevator? Har har, very funny in a one-story high school. She hated this fashionable irony of her peers—perhaps he found it amusing to toy with her affections. Rosalie had invited her to their house—but she had also introduced herself with a different last name. _You're too curious, Bella_, she told herself, _butt out._


	3. Lunchroom Exposition

Lunchtime came. This god-forsaken day was only half-over. She had previously been dreading lunch, but that was when being ignored was the worst that could happen to her. Now she was well-known and whispers followed her in a slimy trail, making her feel like a fat slug. She grabbed her purple knapsack and _Wuthering Heights_ from her locker. Once you got past all the alarming ejaculations in the first chapter, it turned out to be a good ghost story. Right about now, sitting alone with the violent Gothic novel sounded perfect.

Unfortunately, Bella would not be ostracized at lunch. There were very few seats in the cafeteria by the time she got there and she would be forced to beg at tables for a spot to set down her food. Forks was the polar opposite of Phoenix. Here it was empty, dark and always raining. The outdoor picnic tables didn't look inviting. She wondered if it was worthwhile darting through the rain to her truck, to eat alone and shivering in the parking lot.

There was an obvious table of outcasts and they caught her eye, indicating that this was where she belonged.

"Thank you," she muttered, instinctively hunching to diminish her largess.

"So you're Isabella Swan, huh?" asked one of the brash, bossy-looking girls at the table. Her words dripped with false confederacy. Bella nodded reflexively correcting her name,

"Bella." But she had a good idea that the whole school knew her by now.

"Knocked out Edward Cullen with one glance," the girl smiled appreciatively. "He must have a thing for tall chicks."

"His blood sugar was low," Bella said softly, trying to focus on eating and avoiding conversation. She compensated for her size by acting and speaking diminutively, but the table would not ignore her.

"What's this about knocking out Cullen?" asked one of the other misfits, intrigued. Bella listened as the rest of the table filled him in on the gossip. The misfits were nice enough to chalk it up to love-struck heart palpitations but Bella was sure that was untrue. And she hated to think what the more popular, snarky students were hypothesizing.

The bossy girl, with raccoon eyeshadow and most of her cleavage showing was named Jessica. Her beauty was undermined by her desperation for attention. With Rosalie saturating the market it was understandable why a girl had to try so hard just to be noticed. The makeup outlining her eyes brought out their light green color and her snakebite piercings showcased her full lips. She swept her dyed-black hair across her forehead in the modern fashion. She was slender, vivacious, with clear skin and intelligent eyes. She caught Bella staring at Rosalie, pulled by the gravity of her beauty.

"Those are the Cullens and the Hales," she offered, like a bored tour guide, "your Romeo is obviously missing." Bella blushed to feel the attention on her again but she was curious about the family—there were more of them; all gorgeous and dramatically pale like kabuki actors.

"Are they models?" She asked, biting into a peanut butter and marmalade sandwich. Charlie, her bachelor father, didn't have much in the way of ingredients. Jessica laughed,

"They're too antagonistic to model. They hate _everyone_. Plus, they're freaks."

"Not freaks like us," the maybe-cute boy, Mike, said, "Real freaks. The freaky kind."

"So there's Rosalie Hale, you know her, she's Edward's big sister by adoption." Bella's eyes showed interest—_adopted_? Jessica, the tour guide, smiled.

"Yeah, they're like a Brady Bunch porno or something. The doctor adopted a few sick kids, and his wife had adopted the twins, so when they met up everybody just grabbed a mate and started shacking up. See?" She pointed to the broad-shouldered, rugged boy at the table with a strong jaw and hulking arms. He didn't look like he was suffering from any kind of blood condition.

"Rosalie's totally dating that brick wall with the crewcut. His name is Emmett," Bella zoned out while Jessica offered theories on his body parts—private and otherwise. The Venn Diagram of interests shared by Bella and Jessica was quickly separating to leave little overlap.

"The thinner guy, who I think looks like Ryan Phillippe circa 1999—"

"More like Harpo Marx," muttered the Mike character. Apparently the boys of the school suffered as much envy as the girls.

"-that's Jasper Hale," Jessica ignored the interruption. "He's super weird and traumatized, which I find totally adorable. He, like, _never_ talks though. He and Rosalie are twins but they're graduating this year—sad!" Jessica fluttered her eyelashes and sighed dramatically at the loss of curly-haired Jasper.

"And that bubbly girl with the short hair is _his_ girlfriend, Alice Cullen. Weird, isn't it?" Bella nodded, staring at the odd pairing. Rosalie looked right with Emmett, they were respective caricatures of femininity and virility. But Jasper and Alice were strikingly mismatched. Jasper was just as wooden as Jessica had said, but Alice was animated and warm with a heart-shaped face and rosebud lips. She had the soft appeal of a silent film actress.

Intellectually, Bella understood that growing up with someone prevented you from becoming attracted to them, it was a sort of natural instinct to protect against incest. But when young adults got slammed together in new households the whole brother/sister combination usually flew out the window. She had researched it when Renee had been dating a dad. Phil, her new step-dad, didn't have any kids. But even Bella had to admit that the family dynamic seemed disturbing.

"So that leaves Edward, the Byronic poet, on the outs. He's got nobody to love. Until now," Jessica grinned. Bella wished she could slide under the table, she did not like the insinuations Jessica was making and guessed the girl wouldn't be afraid to become more explicit.

"But good luck with that," Jessica pouted, "he's notoriously picky. No one is good enough for him."

"It's not your fault, Jess," Mike sympathized, "you just don't have the right _accoutrements_." Jessica returned a lewd smile,

"Neither do you from what I've seen."

Bella was glad the conversation was off her, even though she really didn't want to hear Jessica and Mike quip about sex. Bella hadn't fallen for the inane gossip in her last school, and she wasn't prepared to join the conversation now. Bella thought that what made sex _sexy _was mystery and reverence. To Mike and Jessica, it sounded more like a hot commodity.

She did quickly learn that Edward was forsaken as some kind of gay celibate monk with pretty lips. All the girls and enough of the boys resented him for his chastity, angry that he would keep his affections to himself. Someone that beautiful should never be single and the only excuse for his loneliness was suppressed homosexuality; at least that was the conclusion of the misfits. Jessica recapped her top ten partner suggestions for Edward's potential sex tape, herself at the top, of course. The table was too loud for Bella to read her book so she just endured the conversation, hating the petty town of Forks.


	4. Waiting for Edward

The cyanide cherry to top her disaster sundae was gym class. In this hell-hole of a school there were required uniforms for gym, which of course did not run in size G for gargantuan. The shorts were too short, and she hadn't shaved her legs; the shirt rolled up and let her expansive belly pour forth like yeasty bread. She couldn't wear this. She pulled aside the gym teacher and begged, almost crying, not to be forced to wear those clothes. Clemency was granted and she wore her ill-fitting blouse and stretched-out jeans for gym, promising to buy her own uniform on-line.

In the locker room where she had left her book bag she found out what the rest of the school was saying about her.

"Her face cracks mirrors and stuns the Adonis!" _The Adonis_ is how Edward was casually known by students who took Greek mythology. Bella was familiar with the story: a young boy adopted by horny women who raised him to be their sex slave until he was gored to death by a wild animal. It did not sound like a compliment to her.

"She smells so rank he probably suffocated himself!"

"Stank-ass Medusa."

"Amazon with halitosis!"

"I bet she's one of those Harry Potter monsters. The Basilisk one!"

The next day at school Edward was conspicuously absent. The rumor mill churned fast enough to generate a new source of green energy. The new girl hadn't been the hot girl-next-door that they'd been hoping for, but she made a good story. The school loved Bella and Bella hated the school.

A week passed without Edward, though the rest of his family continued to arrive at school. She couldn't stop herself from watching their table during lunch, wondering where the mysterious boy had gone. If it weren't for the colorful rumors she would have thought she'd imagined him. There was something religiously cliquish about his family; something that piqued the interest in a curious girl like Bella. She cursed at herself, she had already adopted the small-town's horror-infatuation with the mystery family.

Even her dad, Charlie, had the bug. During dinner after her first day of school, he brought up the Cullens without Bella ever mentioning the scene she had made in Biology. Instead, she had asked an unrelated question:

"When will Billy come by? I need to thank him for the truck," she smiled, offering her real thanks to Charlie for surprising her with the rusty old beast. She had been saving money for a car, but he'd beaten her to it, and she was genuinely grateful. The question didn't sit right with Charlie and he made indistinct grumbling noises to change the conversation. Silence settled over the dinner table and Bella wondered if every night would be like this: bad day at school, weird tension at home. What had she gotten herself into? All of a sudden Charlie burst out,

"I don't have anything against Billy—things have been hard on him ever since the diabetes. That's why I can't shake what an old fool he is!"

Billy Black was Charlie's oldest friend but a few years ago his diabetes had taken his legs, confining him to a wheelchair. Bella hadn't seen this latest development. In her mind, Billy was still a robust Quileute fisherman whose eyes crinkled when he talked about how pretty his daughters were getting.

"What did Billy do?" Bella asked, confused.

"He's stopped going to the hospital altogether. He and his tribe have gone totally crazy and they're boycotting the head doctor, Carlisle Cullen. He's new, and he's damned good at his job. But they talk all hocus-pocus and things I can't even understand." He shook his head before smearing a hand across his face to wipe away the anger.

"Cullen?" Bella asked, "I take classes with his kids." She was trying to be helpful and maintain some kind of conversation, especially since this was the most vocal Charlie had been about any subject besides Renee or sports.

"That's another reason why he's such a good man! All those kids: adopted! They've got some wild and rare disorder and so he takes care of them personally. He's the best doctor we've had in years and he's a genuine saint. I don't know what got into Billy, but until he unknots his panties—excuse my language, Bells—I just can't bear to see the old fart."

Small-town intrigues. Bella only found those kinds of stories interesting under the careful pen of Jane Austen and she was not going to dive into gossiping about the pale-skinned Cullens. Still, she couldn't fight the attraction: the mystery was just so romantic! They lived outside Forks in a mansion high up on a hill that no one ever saw. They had a blood condition which made them sickly pale but nevertheless gorgeous. The family stuck together and avoided all contact from the others. Most importantly was Edward, the lonely Adonis who had disappeared.

One day she caught them staring at _her_ during lunch. They sat glamorous and mournful over empty trays. They always looked like an anemic clothing commercial, except that the Jasper was more muscular and Emmett _far _more muscular than Edward, who was wiry and tight. There was a violent grace to Rosalie, who looked like she knew how to kill a person while wearing high heels. Alice, on the other hand, was almost approachable except for her pained boyfriend and unblinking crazy-eyes. They were inexplicably popular, refusing contact with other students, who were generally titled "mortals". The Mortals and the Misfits. Bella hated these titles.


	5. Slowmotion Rock Star

On the day Edward returned to school, Bella didn't see him in home room and so she wasn't expecting him to turn up in Biology. She had begun arriving early to classes, now that she knew the layout of the school, and when he graced the door it was like a movie clip in her head. His long-legged walk slowed down, and she could see how his shirt tapered at the waist, flared at the throat. She could even imagine loud electric guitar music accompanying his entrance. Jessica had described him as Byronic but he didn't look like a poet today. He had a smile that said, "I know a secret, and I bet you'd do anything to hear it." He was either James Dean or Marlon Brando or both or neither, Bella decided.

He had a slow, predatory walk, perfected over the century. He had a sharp grin and sharper features and even though he was the manifestation of her embarrassment and shame, she couldn't tear her eyes from him. Those kids were right, he was Adonis. He must have been an unnaturally sexy baby. As he approached, Bella remembered that neither James Dean nor Adonis, nor even Marlon Brando had met good ends. Through her admiration, she also felt a little sorry for him.

He sat next to her, after pulling his chair to the furthest end of the table. He seemed to be avoiding her, but he spoke to her anyway. The seduction was gone and his voice was stiff. All the grin and swagger of his entrance had disappeared, and Bella was sure it was her fault.

"Hello, lab partner."

"Hi, Edward," the name alone thrilled her. It appeared in most of her Jane Austen books, so she couldn't help but find it girlishly romantic. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes and no," he grumbled, thinking, _Daddy says I can't eat you. And now I'm stuck here all semester._

"Why were you gone for so long?" She asked, making idle chatter while the other students filtered in.

"I was grounded for bad behavior. I did some home-schooling." He released a wicked smile, one which surely caused the panties to land at his feet. "We're a strict family."

Bella nodded sagely: drug use. She knew the deal, she came from a high school with metal detectors and routine locker sweeps. She had been thinking about what could make him so weird and then faint. Mood swings, irregular behavior, clammy skin, extremely dilated eyes. Sounded like the perfect Cullens didn't approve of whatever he'd been using. Again, she felt sorry for this self-destructive James Dean. Too handsome: fated to die young.

"Do you need a ride home? We can talk about colors," she offered him a friendly smile. Oddly, she felt more comfortable with him than with the actual misfits.

"What?" he asked in irritation, "Colors? What the hell are you talking about?" It was hard enough not eating her, but when she said stupid things then both halves of his brain agreed she deserved death. The tastiest girl in school should not be giving him excuses to kill her.

"Oh," Bella said softly, "you forgot. I'm sorry. Still," she persisted brightly, "do you need a ride?"

Edward eyed her oddly, nose twitching. Wrestling. He could not let her overpower his discipline. He had fought years, decades to become the man he was and this empty-headed morsel wouldn't reverse that. He would not kill mouthwatering Bella, no matter how badly she asked for it.

"No," he finally said.

When she was free between classes she headed to the office to argue about gym. Couldn't she do something less draconian? But as she approached she heard Edward's voice,

"Please, I need to get out of that Biology class."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cullen, it's too late in the year, you would mar your record."

At first, he jumped when Bella entered. He hadn't heard her approach thanks to her empty head, and the smell knocked him over without warning. Holding his breath, he composed himself, curtly thanked the registrar, and began to leave, not meeting Bella's gaze.

"I also want to drop a class," Bella said, and she saw Edward freeze out of the corner of her eye, "Gym," She clarified. He shook his head and she thought she heard him swear. She got the distinct feeling he didn't like her.

She had no luck with that stodgy matron. The registrar was good at her job, good enough to ignore the knee-buckling charms of Edward-What-lovely-wrists-you-have-Cullen. But Bella assumed that life simply conspired to make her miserable in Forks, Washington. In a past life she must have slaughtered nuns and school children to deserve this kind of punishment. For what seemed like forever, she sad rigidly next to the arguably hottest boy in school-though Jessica said it was a grand tie among the Cullen-Hale men, and she wouldn't mind watching them fight for the title. She couldn't bring herself to ask him anything more interesting than, "Does this look like metaphase to you?" The other misfits noticed his coolness and teased her at lunch.

"Maybe he's playing hard to get," Jessica giggled. One could barely use the adjective _hard_ without Jessica trying to sneak in a forced innuendo.

"No, he just doesn't like me."

"Yeah, he does kind of have that Mister Darcy thing going on," she hummed appreciatively. It bothered Bella that Jessica was smart but preferred to showcase her bust rather than her brains. Removed from the context of boys Jessica was actually pretty cool.

"Except that that was largely a misunderstanding of circumstance," Bella said, "Though Mr. Darcy really was an unforgivable jerk in the beginning." Mike rolled his eyes and demanded the conversation find its way to zombies _ASAP_!

She knew it was pathetic of her, but she always kept Edward in the corner of her eye and she could feel his attention turn towards the table. He couldn't possibly hear them from across the crowded lunchroom, but she was glad for the change of subject anyway. No one at the table seemed interested in her literary analysis anyway.

The next day when the rock music kicked in and Edward sauntered through the biology doors, something again was different. His half-smile was aimed at her. _No it's not, _she thought, C_alm down, girl_.

But when he coolly sat beside her, he didn't make the effort to pull his lab stool further away. In fact, he spoke to her—casually, as though they had been talking just a few minutes beforehand.

"So what brings you to Forks?" he asked nearly four weeks after her stellar entrance. Bella was dumbstruck. Also, it was a sore subject.

"It's complicated," she muttered. Edward looked bored by the comment.

"Bella. We're the most advanced students in this Advanced Biology class. I think I can keep up."

"I didn't move here because of Biology, Edward," Bella couldn't help saying. She felt bad for being snippety. She was torn between the fan-girl screaming inside of her-_He's talking to you! Look at his hair!_-and the sadness she felt whenever she looked at how alone he was, an aloneness she felt keenly. She shook her head, clearing the dueling voices.

"My mother remarried and I chose to move in with my dad," she said, purposefully undercutting the drama.

"You don't like your step-dad?" Edward asked, his voice warm with interest. Bella and the whole school knew he was adopted and she then wondered how he felt about his own parents.

"Phil's okay. He's young and he makes my mom happy, makes her feel young, too." She shrugged, remembering all the outings and adventures she'd opted to miss. "Younger than me, it seems. I didn't fit in with that kind of energy. I wanted a parent, not a sister. I sort of… dragged them down, I guess." _Whoa, Bella, cool it on the honesty._ Her throat tightened. She had said well too much. It had just blurted out, maybe because no one else seemed to care.

"So Forks is more your pace, then?" There was a special cadence to Edward's questions so that they sounded more like statements. He seemed comfortable assuming people's intentions.

"No," Bella countered, not heeding the voices in her head telling her to agree with him, "I'm even more unpopular here. And Charlie—that's my dad—he works all the time and at weird hours. I like being alone to think, but everything here is too quiet. It creeps me out, like an ideal place to hide a murder."

Edward nodded, seemingly in agreement, then he allowed himself a secret smile. She had never told anyone why she had moved to Forks, not even Charlie. She kept her eye on Edward, waiting for him to respond, but the old chasm returned. Their two spheres separated, and the next time he spoke it was to ask whether she wanted to draw the diagrams or should he.


	6. Hate and Planning

_**Author's note: **As you may have noticed by now, this is a rewrite! Maybe you already know what is going to happen, but you don't know how it happens or the internal logic of it. The trick is: this Bella and this Edward have to fall for each other in an authentic, realistic way. But can they when she is "fat and ugly" and he is a self-proclaimed monster?_

**Part the second: The Gameplan**

Bella returned home agitated. She was already distressed by her constant interest—infatuation with Edward Cullen. It wasn't healthy to like someone the way she liked him. She didn't even know him. She probably only liked his looks; she was no better than any of his other admirers. As she automatically opened the fridge at home she fell into an old habit of self-deprecation.

None of her clothes fit well, a mark of poverty and her awkward build. She had thick black hair that arbitrarily curled and usually looked like a mess. It was the kind of thick hair that left strong wisps around her forehead and ear, sometimes looking alarmingly like sideburns.

Her self-image further plummeted after being re-introduced to the world of glamorous youth. Over the summer she had forgotten how out-of-place her size and body were but once she had returned to school she had seen tan shoulder blades without a trace of acne. She had seen the firm, pretty strip of abdominal skin that would peek out beneath a coy shirt and it seemed like all the girls had flat stomachs with the attractive fuzz of invisible, ethereal down.

Along the spectrum of decorum all the girls were beautiful, protected by the shiny gloss of youth. There were girls with messy piles of hair on their heads, a tight t-shirt acting as a thin corset and baggy boy's sweatpants with rakish insinuation. Then there were the nimble and studious girls who led all the programs and smiled the best smiles, wearing the expensive and carefully layered dress of young professionals. Watching this nubile parade with growing shame was the monstrous outlier: Bella Swan.

She weighed over 260 lbs, though she couldn't stay on the scale long enough for the needle to stop quivering. Hairy, tall, fat and poor, Bella didn't have a chance at popularity. She was further shamed by the exotic sounding _acanthosis nigricans_, a build-up of pigment that made the back of her neck, her armpits, and her cleavage look perpetually dirty_—_as though she needed further disfigurement.

Bella stormed up to her room, full of cold leftovers, peanut butter, and self-loathing. She slouched messily on her bed and began to cry, but then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. _What a loser_, she thought upon seeing the red-faced girl in the mirror. She bit her lip against the tears and shook her head, chasing away the voice. She sat up straight and angrily looked into the mirror, saying aloud,

"I'm not a loser!" The mean voice in her that Edward hated her. She'd seen his habit of clenching and unclenching his fist, and she'd also noted he never did that except when he was around her. She got the feeling he was trying not to hit her. Was it because she smelled bad?

Rather than letting herself feel stupid and ugly, she laughed. That was Edward's problem. Regardless of body odor no one ever deserves a face punch in Biology. She felt her face cooling down and her breathing slow. Still, she conceded, she could start showering every day and use a new deodorant.

He doesn't hate me, she reminded herself. He had tried to be nice to her today, in his weird way._ Then I spilled my mopey guts and he just retreated. With all of my secrets. _

She sighed in frustration, as though he were an unusually difficult math problem. If he paid her attention she swooned stupidly, but if he ignored her she fretted girlishly. She couldn't stop her obsession with this chimerical boy, and she kept imposing characteristics on him that she couldn't be sure were true or not. Was he really lonely or was she just projecting her own loneliness onto him? Was he a brooding intellectual, Byronic and witty, or was she just idealizing a stranger?

She would have to talk to him again and find out the truth.

It did not go well.

As soon as he sat down in Biology she said brightly,

"Hi, Edward!"

This was met by the dragging screech of his stool being moved away from her. Undaunted, she persevered.

"You know, I heard you and your family were the newbies only last year. What brought all of you to Forks?"

Edward stared at her in teenage hostility. Long ago, before he had been made into an immortal monster, he had been a friendly boy. Carlisle said he had to keep her away for her own good. Considering how her blood affected him, he agreed with Carlisle.

His fist clenched, the monster part of him yearning to take her in, win her confidence, and carefully kill her in privacy. He imagined using his nails to slice along the delicate veins of her wrists. But he'd made a promise to Carlisle and to himself. He was better than that. He was more than his nature.

Still, something about her story had affected him and stayed lodged inside him as a thorn. He caught himself admiring her tenacity. For the first time in years he not only paid attention to a human, but began to remember what it had felt like to once be human. He had to struggle against returning her smile.

"My father's job brought us here, of course." He spat the words with condescension. Bella took it bravely, which only made Edward more uncomfortable.

"Do you like Forks, then?" Class was about to begin and Edward could feel the clash of intentions battling inside him with loud, clanging vibrations. _Stay mean_, he thought, _stay nasty_.

"No, I do not like Forks" he responded curtly, "present company included."

Edward hated himself. Usually he could bear that, it was a familiar sensation. But now he was harming this girl and the accompanying pain was new and excruciating. He could feel the storm front building next to him, and he knew he deserved whatever fury the mortal kitten unleashed, he even welcomed it. Perhaps he had been too cruel to this girl. She wasn't so bad, after all. But no, he had to keep her far away. Hatred was best. Hatred was good.

Always a good liar, Edward kept up his coolness. When Bella remained silent for ten straight minutes he figured she was waiting until after class to scream at him. He continued the experiment without her, hunched over a microscope slide. Not looking up he asked, "Pipette." Holding out his hand like a surgeon waiting on his nurse. Nothing happened.

He looked up and saw something worse than fury. It was disappointment and disgust. The monster laughed in condescension, but the real Edward felt shame and sorrow, as though he cared about her opinion. He caught himself frowning. He began to reach for the pipette himself but Bella was already grabbing it. She offered it to him and then stopped, withdrawing her hand.

Bella Swan didn't care how mind-numbingly, tooth-achingly, soul-burningly gorgeous he was. She had come to some hard conclusions in the past few minutes and she was going to give him a piece of her mind.

"What's your problem?" She asked, her voice quiet but quaking despite herself. "Why are you so _mean_?" The accusation was childish, but it had hurt her to learn so quickly the answer to all her questions about Edward Cullen. He was simply a jerk. She had really hoped he would have been more than that.

His courage was failing him. He had been mean to her, and through the images of gore and violence in his head, a tenderness rose. He turned away, unable to answer. Bella set the pipette down in front of him and refused to join in the experiment. She felt childish, but it was the only way to fight back tears.

She hadn't realized how much she had wanted his friendship. Now she knew, from that response, that Edward Cullen was no good, and the meager amount of self-respect she still had told her that he did not deserve her attentions. Fine, she thought, she would gladly remove them.

The next day in homeroom Edward left a note on Bella's desk reading, _I'll explain in Biology - Edward_. He had spoken earlier with Carlisle, and they both decided that Edward should make an appeal to her intelligence and sense of privacy.

He had made a confession to Carlisle, one that he didn't completely understand. The phrase of it was now spinning in his head as he watched Bella enter: I hurt her, and it somehow hurt me, _but worse_. Jasper had been cold towards him and Edward tried to give privacy to his brother's thoughts but they were too loud. Part of Jasper felt smug, glad that the mind-reader finally knew the burden of empathy, but the loudest images in Jasper's brain reflected Edward's own baseness. The two brothers avoided each other, but Edward could sense a growing tension in his home surrounding this girl.

He watched the play of emotions quickly cross her face. He was charmed by the flush of seductive red in her cheeks, indicative of the particular libation flowing in her frail veins. He caught himself and replaced the half-smile with a scowl. Even bloated on the blood of mountain lions he still felt miserably hungry for this girl. He read her face in lieu of her thoughts.

Bella was surprised by the note, intrigued by the handwriting, and livid when she read the signature. She turned to look at him automatically, her eyes angry and then quickly embarrassed. They both looked away, ashamed to have been caught staring.

Bella seethed through homeroom. She regretted the effort she had put into her shower this morning. She had shaved, shampooed twice, and been generous with both deodorant and baby powder. She had even tried to do something about her hair. Now she wished she were a rancid sack of meat, just to make that pretty boy writhe. She had no idea that he was doing just that.

It was a long day, and she didn't tell anyone about the note. He was cruelly indecisive. Why didn't he just let her go? She had the urge to smell the note, immediately followed by the urge to flush it down the toilet, followed by the urge to encase it in plastic. She hated him _so much_.

She sat down grumpily at the lab table, "What?" she asked petulantly. She had made sure to show up early.

Edward leaned forward, then his eye twitched a little and he leaned back a bit. _Too close,_ he thought.

"Bella, I'm only going to say this once, so listen to me." His voice was hushed and rapid, and Bella reluctantly turned her face to meet the full onslaught of his attention. Her heart fumbled around stupidly, forgetting how to do its job, but she tried to concentrate on his words.

"You have to stop trying to be my friend. I tried to ignore you, I tried to push you away, now I have to beg you. It would be most prudent for you to stay away from me. We should not be friends."

"Edward," she heard herself replying, "I'm your lab partner. We're stuck together. Can't we at least be cordial?" _Cordial. _He smiled at the word despite himself.

That smile was crucial. It was lopsided and boyish, genuine and sad. In that moment Bella saw something which broke her heart and solidified her resolve. Jessica and the others had assured Bella that Edward never smiled, never spoke to anyone when he didn't need to, and always kept to himself. But she could tell that he was cracking; he really was lonely. She smiled back.

Immediately he reknit his brows and set his jaw, trying to remain firm.

"Stay away from me, Bella," He said mysteriously and hopefully with enough vehemence that she'd take the advice. "It's not safe to befriend me."


	7. Operation: Smile

That night over homework, she lay on her bed, thinking to herself. In the privacy of her bedroom she could be alone with her thoughts, thoughts which she found girlish but decadent and irresistible. Bella considered herself a reasonable girl and her bookshelf of feminist classics bolstered that image. She remained apart from the gossip of town and was not one given to unsophisticated intrigues, but everyone has their limits.

Her pen doodled absentmindedly on the blank page in front of her. The persistent and incorrigible Edward Cullen bloomed in her memory, but this time she welcomed the image. Edward was a mystery that she decided to leave unsolved, for now. He obviously had severe emotional baggage and was chronically lonely, but so was she so that didn't matter right now. Now, she wanted to rhapsodize his beauty—because Edward Cullen was easily the most glorious creature she had ever seen in her entire seventeen-year existence. It was like the three bears: Emmett was too burly, Jasper was too nervous, but Edward was just right. Not to mention, he was apparently unattached.

She took her time in tracing his features. An inkling of self-loathing threatened the indulgence, but she had enough presence of mind to think, "Hey! If I can't crush on a boy at 17 when can I?" And so she set about the pleasurable task of meditating on his minutiae.

The thing she really couldn't get over about Edward was that he shouldn't be so alluring. He had sickly skin and shocking hair with twitchy caramel eyes and Benicio del Toro bruises under his eyes. Honestly, he looked like a featherweight boxer who had prematurely battled life head-on.

No, the thing about Edward was that his beauty imposed itself on his features, transforming an irregular nose and transluscent skin into art. There was a harmony which overrode his heavy eyebrows; a secret that made the delicate bones of his face handsome. Edward Cullen's maddening luminescence did not derive from classically good looks but from his unearthly ability to homogenize his features into a thrumming, ecstatic harmony.

There were, of course, marks of a more classic beauty throughout his body. He was taller than Bella, a seeming rarity in this town, but she knew that if she put on high enough heels she could outsoar him. She gave a mirthless laugh, the image of her in stilettos was absurd enough without the implication of romantic attachment to the elusive boy. She returned to her study of his body.

She clearly recalled his hands and forearms as she watched him write his notes in class, push up his sleeves, or reach for a lab instrument. Unlike his feminine cheekbones and thick eyelashes, his arms were virile; strong and developed, with bronze hair growing over supple muscle and veins. She could easily imagine the force and protection within those muscle fibers.

Another sigh, another angle. His hands, deft as a pianist's, long and slender. But again a masculinity reasserted itself in the brutality of the veins and tendons, the alarming white of his knuckles as he clenched his fist. She shook her head-best to try a different memory.

She saw his back then—Jesus Christ, his shoulders were gorgeous. When she walked behind him in the hall or glanced towards the front of homeroom. He had the wide shoulders of a boy sprouting into manhood. The breadth of his back was exaggerated by his slight frame and she got weird images of him hauling pales of water over those strong shoulders. She giggled to herself and marveled at his balance of brawn and delicacy; poised, as it were, between boy and man.

Just as this profound observation formed itself she heard her father's voice, "Bel-la!" He yelled without intonation. It had become the accustomed dinner call. As she trudged to the silence of the dinner table she remembered his hair_._ Which, by the way, was a glorious and unruly mane of cinnamon with a copper sheen.

"Dad?" Bella asked over dinner, glad to finally have a topic to break the ugly sound of mastication. Edward's furtive smile had stuck with her all day and didn't appear to be going away anytime soon. Charlie made a sound to indicate he was listening, still working on a piece of over-cooked steak.

"How should people in witness protection act?"

"I don't understand," he answered slowly with a hard swallow, "What do you mean, Bells?"

"Um," she began, thinking quickly, "it's for a mystery novel I'm reading. It has a character and I think she—" Bella decided changing the gender was a clever cover-up, "—is in witness protection. In the story, she is a loner and when people try to befriend her she warns them to stay away."

Charlie shook his head, "Well if she is, she's doing a bad job at it. In protection, you want to make sure you blend in and don't attract attention. So she should actually be making plenty of friends and looking normal.

"Does she want friends?" He asked, always up for a mystery.

"Yes. At least, I think so, but when anyone gets too close she drives them away, seemingly reluctantly. She only interacts with her family; there are a lot of them and they are all sequestered off in the woods."

"Sounds more like a religious cult or something."

"A cult?" Bella had thought of this, but hadn't fleshed out the idea entirely. She mused aloud to her father,

"Well… her family does seem to encourage inter-marriage, and she isn't supposed to let anyone touch her…"

"Inter-marriage?" he asked, his eyebrows disapproving. Charlie worried about the kinds of books Bella read.

"Well, they aren't related by blood, but they are all raised together and then paired off. Isn't that weird?"

"Does she ever miss school for religious holidays or observances?" Charlie asked smoothly.

"She does miss school sometimes—the whole family packs up and leaves for days at a time without notice, but they always come back." Suddenly Bella realized Charlie had caught her. He had been looking at her seriously and now he said,

"This isn't a character in a story, is it, Bella? It's a girl at your school."

"Not here at Forks, no, it's back in Phoenix." Bella covered up quickly. Being away from Charlie for so long had made her forget that he was still a pretty good cop. "One of my old friends was telling me about her in an e-mail. She's worried about her and I wanted to give advice without being too snoopy."

Charlie launched into an awkward fatherly talk concerning Bella's decision-making skills. He encouraged her to basically follow her gut, but stay away from anything too complicated, and to call in the authorities if this friend appeared to be suffering abuse. Bella nodded but stared at her plate, unresponsive.

She had to gather more evidence. Bella decided she would not leave Edward Cullen alone. This was not in vain hope of securing his romantic attentions, those hopes were outlandish enough for her to be comfortable around the demigogue. He was too far out of her league, but she was also wondering if maybe the Misfits were right and he did harbor a sexual secret. But she was intrigued by how he made the truth so easy on her lips. He was an outsider, even if he did look like Adonis; and maybe he suffered like Adonis did in the myths. She went to school, a sticky starfish ready to pry Edward from his shell.

_She is fascinating_, Edward found himself sighing. He'd scoot his stool away from her in lab, glare morosely across the lunchroom or the homeroom, but she always wheedled him into light conversation in Biology. She was so tricky, so mysterious with that beautifully obscure brain. Never before had he been caught off-guard so often. He no longer had the upper hand, could not anticipate her movements or words. He felt unbalanced around her and the dizziness was disturbingly pleasant.

At first he had the urge to crack her open and drain not only her blood but her secrets. This image had long since given way to laying beside her in the magical meadow, listening to her voice willingly reveal those secrets. She kept so much from him. He tried to be condescending and menacing, fearsome and aloof, but was constantly undermined in his efforts.

She would drop a silly comment with a wink in her smile or tease him lightly in class.

"I nominate you scrivener," she might say, "seeing as you have the best handwriting between us." Or he might waggishly identify a slide under the microscope, scorning her abilities. With a pause she'd peer at the slide, hum and then say with a smile,

"Is it really a paramecium or is it paisley? Anaerobic or arabesque?"

She kept making him laugh. She drew smiles out of him; and she did this with the same greed and obsessive taxonomy as any serious collector. _This_, she would think to herself, _is the reluctant smile he hides behind his hand._ And then, _There! That's the crooked grin reaching only his topaz eyes_. She ignored his rude behavior outside of class, which felt like a front he was putting on for someone else's benefit. She assumed his family didn't approve of her—probably for something stupid, like the fact that she had her ears pierced or her parents were divorced-and she kept her distance. School still sucked, but whenever she could get Sullen Cullen to giggle in Biology, she actually enjoyed Forks.

As her mood improved she found herself enjoying the task of getting ready for school. She took more care to select clean clothes with fewer wrinkles. She carefully re-patched the holes in the thighs of her jeans and shelled out the big bucks for an acne treatment system. She was still Bella Swan, still the terrifying Behemoth of the halls, but she was starting to feel better in her own skin. Making Edward crack gave her confidence and satisfaction.

Meanwhile, she was gradually and methodically driving Edward insane. His resolve and stoicism were noticeably weakening. He found himself monitoring her movements through other people's thoughts, listening to the gossip in other people's heads whenever it pertained to Bella and becoming indignant and protective when it was pejorative—which was all too often. He had to increase his hunting, keep himself sated more often. Esme, his mother, worried that the rangers might notice a depletion in big game outside of hunting season. Edward had to widen his hunting circles, going ever further outward in order to distract himself from the enigma of Bella Swan


	8. HiHo Volvo!

**_Author's Note: _**_Although I wrote this story last year, I keep it annually updated and I am deeply enamored of it! I appreciate all reviews and respond personally and *extensively* to all PMs! Let me know what you think of my rewrite! All hail the Smeyer feverdream!_

**Part the third: Fate in the form of vehicles**

The first snowfall of the winter happened around lunchtime. Bella hated anything involving agility, or playfulness. It only reminder her that she was so awkward and out of shape. She always fell down or ended up hurting someone with her strength. She was embarrassed by how easily she was winded at only seventeen.

She watched sadly as the Cullens entered gleaming and laughing, cheered by their friendly snowball fight. Although the misfits made snarky comments about the Beautifuls looking like a hair gel commercial, Bella could hear the envy in their voices. Bella didn't envy them. They looked happy and gorgeous but the family structure sounded controlling. And, she surmised, something drove Edward to drug use.

Drugs still explained his erratic behavior, his clammy, pallid skin, and the occasional attacks he would get in class where his fists would clench and he'd grind his jaw. She knew it wasn't her smell anymore, she'd even asked Jessica. The Cullens had secrets, that had to be it: there was a reason they kept themselves apart from society.

"Stop oggling him, Bella!" Jessica said in a purposefully loud voice, drawing attention. She had noticed Edward's reluctant friendliness with Bella—he never spoke to anyone, and sometimes Bella would make him laugh so hard he would throw back his head and slap his knee.

"Yeah," chimed in Mike, "don't make him faint again."

It had been months, but this was how Bella was known. She had been reduced to a joke. The only nice girl in the misfit table was Angela, and Bella couldn't even really be sure of that. She never spoke and always ran away or blushed heavily when Bella—or anyone else for that matter—tried to speak to her. She was terminally shy.

One of the Misfits exercised his weak grasp on logic. "If Cullen only likes cock," he said with a mathematical air, "and he's hanging around Bella more often, then…" He purposefully trailed off with a wolfish grin, leaving the table to burst into laughter and choruses of obscenities. Bella nervously joined into the laughter.

"We're just teasing," Jessica assured her. Bella looked away, determined to eat in her car tomorrow.

The Cullens must have heard Mike and Jessica because Edward's jocular smile disappeared and his siblings laughed, the muscular one, Emmett, elbowed him roughly. Edward's rare smile made her so happy, and she felt such coldness whenever the scowl returned, especially since she was usually the cause of his agitation. She didn't have to look to know he would be glaring at her; it was like his default mood was set to hostile. But she looked anyway, meeting his glare, and with complete solemnity she crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. She saw a corner of Edward's cheek rise, fighting back a grin.

"Seriously, Bella, stop worshiping that guy!" Jessica whined, again too loudly, again removing the fleeting smile on Edward's face.

Bella took her purple knapsack and left abruptly. This school sucked.

After gym, the last class of the day, she headed to her car. Only a quarter of the students were left, and most of them were cheering the stunts of one of the kids spinning donuts in the mostly empty parking lot.

_Morons_. Bella thought, still bruised from the teasing at lunch. She tuned out the cheers and shrieking tires, opening the hinged hatch of the pickup to store her gym bag for next week and as she closed it, a series of events happened in quick succession. First, she noticed the gleaming snow chains on her tires.

_Charlie,_ she thought with a painful twinge. It made her uncomfortable when Charlie tried to show love, but he must have come by just to put chains on his daughter's truck. The chains were beautiful like jewelery.

She also heard someone yell "Look out!" and when she turned she saw Edward Cullen, four car-lengths from her, staring at her with an emotion she couldn't instantly process: rage, fear, helplessness? And she felt a tug. Without looking she knew: her jacket had gotten caught in the hinges of the old truck. Meanwhile a car was sliding icily, deadly, directly toward her. She was aware of this, but strangely calm. As she closed her eyes she thought, _Charlie. Edward. Jacket._

The car hit her with a sound of ripping fabric and the involuntary grunt of all her air abandoning her lungs. There was a thunk as her head hit the ground. But it was a muffled sound, as if she were wearing a helmet. She had instinctively kept her eyes shut, and she felt the cold, hard metal of the car crush heavily on top of her. She had heard the metallic crunch and knew it was bad, but she must be in shock because she didn't feel anything besides cold pressure. She didn't want to see the damage but couldn't stop herself. She opened her eyes.

"Edward?" He seemed just as surprised as her. She looked around: the two of them were under her bumper with Edward pressing down on her. He cradled one hand behind her head, the other appeared to be holding up the bottom of the car—a dent where his shoulder was. But that was impossible.

"What the—"

"You hit your head, don't move," he said. Her head didn't hurt, and Edward didn't look hurt either. Just wild-eyed.

"Tyler! Oh my God, Tyler!" People were yelling to get help for the driver of the car. She heard shouting, "Are you guys okay?" Before she could answer, Bella felt a quick movement—Edward had rolled the two of them under the truck, and Tyler's car settled heavily onto the asphalt with a clatter of breaking glass. Edward had pulled and then let go of the car, using it covered their hiding place like a blanket. There was no longer any sky, just undercarriage.

"We're here!" he yelled back, "She's okay! We rolled under the truck!"

"That's not—" but no one could hear her under the car. She could hear people telling Tyler to stay still. The airbag had hit his nose and there was a lot of bleeding. She tried to breathe slowly, tried not to imagine the blood they were all screaming about. Was she bleeding, too?

A hysterical girl mistook the gas leaking from the airbag for smoke and started to scream "FIRE!" until someone shut her up. People were all talking at once, asking where Bella's phone was, could someone call her dad, he's the town Sheriff so he probably already knows, et cetera.

"Stay under there, don't move you two!" someone yelled. Edward kept Bella braced under the car, uncomfortably close and completely in control.

Why was he okay?

"Edward?" She asked again, "How did you—"

"Don't say anything, Bella. You hit your head hard. It's going to be okay." She caught a note in his voice, as though he were coaching her. He moved when he heard the ambulances arrive, making space for EMTs to get at Bella. She had a feeling he was going to try and escape the scene. As soon as the EMTs pulled her out and put a brace on her neck she took a deep breath and started yelling,

"Edward got hit! Someone help him, he got hit, too!"

He wouldn't get away now. She could hear him protesting, but he'd been caught. Strapped to a board with her head immobilized she couldn't see anything, but she asked the EMTs to put her in the same hospital room as Edward. She wouldn't answer their questions until they promised.

* * *

><p>It was a conspiracy. The doctor who examined her at the hospital was Edward's father. When Bella saw him she burst into crazed laughter. He was just as beautiful as the rest of them, though slightly older. It's a good thing the Cullens were honest about their adoption, or else Dr. Cullen would have been about nine years old when he knocked up their mother.<p>

"What is with you guys?" she wondered aloud, momentarily uninhibited. She could clearly imagine them going on family trips to the spa, jolly waxing ceremonies and rounds of manicures. Although Edward had cushioned her fall, she felt light-headed and loose lipped. She stared gapingly at the doctor. Later she would remember this was a bad way to make a first impression.

He didn't look anything like Edward except for the sickly skin, which really was forgivable in this climate. He had a strong aqualine nose, white-blond hair and friendly eyes. She was laying in a hospital bed now, the brace removed from her neck. Edward crouched on the edge of a nearby bed, waiting for his father to spring him.

Compared to the handsome, friendly doctor, Edward looked boyish—he was lanky, with thick and unruly red-brown hair, eyes wide and watchful. Bella felt a sudden wave of pity.

"So you hit your head fairly hard, huh?" Dr. Cullen asked in a lilting voice, with a soft accent. He had the paternal cadence of God himself, or at least Liam Neeson. It was very easy to trust him, and she almost felt bad for laughing.

"Not really," she answered softly, chastised. Then she remembered Edward. "Your super-hero son padded my fall."

"Thank you, Edward," he looked over to his son with a meaningful smile, "How compassionate."

"I don't think that's the right word, actually," Bella said, unable to stop her running mouth, "More like _crazysauce_. He dented the other car! I saw him pick it up like it was nothing!" The doctor gave a paternal chuckle.

Edward, sitting nearby mumbled agitatedly, "She, father, sounds crazysauce," The word didn't fit in his mouth, like an over-sized jawbreaker.

"She's probably in shock, but she'll be fine," he responded.

"She is right here and totally lucid!" Bella said loudly. "Your son came out of nowhere in the nick of time and crushed a car to save my life!" _Then he rolled me under the car and kept me prisoner_, she was tempted to add, though it all sounded pretty insane.

Cool hands probed the back of her head. She winced and he nodded asking, "Bad?"

"I've had worse, really. Edward took the brunt of the impact." But the doctor ignored this information. She felt a guilty pleasure imagining Edward's shoulders denting the car—there was something kind of sexy about it. It must have happened, but it was impossible.

"Just stay calm until the test results come back and your father arrives," Dr. Cullen said soothingly. Despite his friendliness, Bella was annoyed that he ignored her crazy story. After he left, Edward gave her a long look and then jumped off the bed, heading towards the door.

"Oh no you don't!" Bella said, sitting up and hissing viciously, "I will scream bloody murder if you put your hand on that doorknob!" Edward backed away.

"Interesting choice of words," he commented as if to himself.

"You tell me what happened," she demanded. Edward sat in a chair, sullen and refusing to make eye contact. He sank his head into his hands, grabbing fistfuls of rusty hair.

"I don't know what happened," he said dejectedly. He sounded more upset than her and it stopped Bella short.

"Well," she began petulantly, but didn't know what to say. Her head spun. Then the words jumped from her lips before she knew them, "Then just stay with me. Talk to me. Please."

The door opened and Bella was afraid it was her father, but Dr. Cullen poked his head in,

"Edward, you are free to go," he said carefully. An energy shot between father and son; their words sounded specialized and careful, full of meaning.

"It is okay father, I am just going to stay with Bella until she is released," _I will not hurt her, I promise_. The stare-off lasted another beat before Doctor Cullen nodded and closed the door. Bella mistook Carlisle's care for control, adding another piece of evidence to her theories about the family.

Chief Swan was elsewhere in the hospital reading Tyler the riot act. He was too scared to see his daughter, and anger came easier to men like him. Bella and Edward would have a few minutes alone.

"So," Edward said facing Bella again. He tried to be charming without being alluring. Open hostility would no longer be an option.

"You said your favorite color is ochre." Bella smiled, he did remember. "What color is that, exactly?"

Bella proceeded to explain the different spectrum of ochre, from golden to red to purplish to brown. Sometimes his eyes were a kind of ochre, and she liked their shifting color, but she didn't tell him that. She even managed to make Edward smile, and her head hurt less.

* * *

><p>The next morning a brand new shiny silver Volvo was parked in her driveway. For a crazy moment Bella thought Charlie had bought it for her in the middle of the night. So when Edward stepped out of the car he was surprised by her hesitation and flashing disappointment. Women never were disappointed to see him.<p>

"I figured you'd need a ride," he said fumblingly, jarred by her reaction, "Actually, Tyler should be driving you in penance," he said, regaining his confidence, "but I hoped to act in his stead while he recovers."

Bella's dad came out of the house yelling, "Bells, do you need coffee on the way to—Oh!" He recognized Edward from the hospital and Bella flushed. As soon as he had left the night before, her father had been angry with the boy, seemingly for the crime of being male in the presence of his daughter. Bella looked a lot like her father, and the resemblance intrigued Edward. They both had ruddy faces with dark hair, though Charlie's was starting to gray at the temples. Edward began imagining Bella aging and wondering whether she would go gray gradually or with bright streaks. He caught himself and pushed the idea away.

"Are you driving Bella to school, Edward?" her father asked slowly, eying the schmancy car. He was giving very obvious body language signaling disapproval, and so Bella was surprised when her father said,

"That's very kind of you. Can I give you some gas money?" Edward politely declined and Charlie turned on his heel and marched back into the house. From his behavior, Bella realized that her father was reluctantly encouraging hers and Edward's friendship. It must have been something Renee had said on the phone. They had both been popular in high school and she knew her loneliness reflected badly on them. Renee would freak out if she ever saw a picture of Edward, she could already hear her mother's squeal, "Marry that boy!"

"Your father is quite something," Edward said interrupting her thoughts. Then, oddly, he let out a full-bodied laugh as he opened the door for her.

"I guess," Bella smiled at Edward's strangeness. "Let's go before he changes his mind." Edward could only guess at what Bella's parents had argued about last night. Her father shared her peculiar talent, except not to the same degree as Bella. His blood didn't bother Edward, and although there was no form or wording to his thoughts, Edward could still read his gist. He was right to fear Edward and to worry for his daughter, but the mother (a warm presence still surrounded by love in Charlie's brain) insisted that Bella needed friends. Charlie begrudgingly agreed. Edward could also sense that Charlie respected Carlisle the town doctor, and perhaps this had helped sway him.

Cloistered in the car, he forcefully ignored the temptations that came with having Bella to himself and let a friendly smile return to his face. He sat in the driver's seat, hesitating the turn on the car. He had suffered all morning, knowing he had this one chance to do something wild and crazy. It was crazy enough to lock himself in an airtight vehicle with the smelliest girl in school, but he considered her a particular challenge that he must master in order to be more like Carlisle.

Edward turned on the car and the CD player turned on as well, a song starting up as though casually. As though he hadn't torn through his myriad collection to find the right one. He kept perfectly still and monitored his speed. Usually he careered through the small town, loving the power of his car, but he needed to prolong this moment with Bella. He would never have her alone again, never have this captivated audience. The song ended and as the next one began Bella asked,

"Could you repeat that last song?"

Right then he died for her. They listened to it again, but the song was too long, no matter how slowly he drove. He parked the car and prepared to turn off the music but she stopped him,

"Wait," she asked. They sat in the parking lot, listening to the last of the chords. He clicked the engine off just as the track turned over. I should tell her now, he thought to himself. Then he remembered exactly what he would have to tell her and he was silenced again.

Bella would only be without a car for a week, the damage to her truck was superficial, but the swindling mechanic was always slow, and now he was busy trying to scrap Tyler's car as well. Bella needed a ride home as well and Edward offered to drive her until she got the truck back. She marveled at how easy it was to talk to him, though he didn't open up much in return.

"I'm sorry I've embarrassed you so much this year," she said as they were walking the few paces from his car to school.

"Embarrassed me? Bella, what are you talking about?" Edward was doubting his acting skills if antipathy could be mistaken for embarrassment.

"You know… 'Basilisk Bella' and the whole fainting thing in Biology on the first day. When you caught my head yesterday _you_ didn't immediately drop it onto the asphalt again."

Edward ignored the second part of her sentence, darkening at the epithet he had heard—and worse—concerning Bella.

"Don't pay attention to those slurs. Teenagers are notorious for their brazen fatuity."

"Harsh words for a high schooler," Bella smiled. She was very pretty when she smiled.

"Such is my lot in life," sighed Edward.

"I'm most surprised that it was you who saved me," she continued, lingering outside the school doors, the truth always pulled from her throat around him, "since you make your disdain so obvious."

"What do you mean?" He asked, cloaking his reaction.

"You have been pretty adamant about not wanting to be Big Fat Bella's friend. You've even said as much," she said.

"I didn't say that," Edward's smooth voice ran forth like clear water, and he couldn't stop it, "I said we _should_ not be friends. It's a matter of prudence, not volition. It has nothing to do with what other people say about you-which is uneducated and pithy. Nor does it have to do with your popularity-which is a false idol and completely irrelevant to life writ large."

At that point, Bella knew she was going to like talking to him. But he emphasized his original point, "Bella, we _shouldn't_ be friends. Absolutely not. But I can't seem to stop it anymore."

Quieted, she wondered if his reluctance was due to her transparent interest in him. He must know his affect on her, as on all women, and probably felt bad about leading her on. Well, she was sure he couldn't feel anything besides novel interest in her, so she decided to accept the backhanded offer of friendship. Besides, their relationship held a novel interest for her as well. Edward was a tantalizing mystery.


	9. Wordplay

After their first drive to school, Bella noticed Edward started taking circuitous routes, lengthening their stay together. Sometimes they would just listen to music, but usually they talked. Talking with him was so easy that she was often surprised by what came out of her mouth.

"Has anything like that ever happened to you before," she said out of the blue one day, completely lacking any context. She quickly continued, "I mean, have you ever…jumped in front of a car at the speed of light crushing it with your arms and shoulders? Before?" She screwed up her lips, knowing it how it sounded but comfortable in the solitude of Edward's car.

He drove, unspeaking for a little while. Sometimes Charlie did this when he was thinking, and Bella waited patiently. She knew Edward had heard her and she was ready to prompt him if he kept silent too long. Edward, for his part, was embroiled in the by-now familiar struggle of not letting too much truth escape. She drew the truth out of him, and with every word he let slip, he somehow felt stronger and weaker. Stronger as a man, stronger as an individual, and yet so utterly helpless in front of this awkward seventeen-year-old girl. He hated her power over him, but was fascinated by it as well.

"I don't know how to answer that," he finally said.

"You said you didn't know what happened. I know the facts—" Bella began,

"I don't think you do," he quickly countered. Maybe he could still play up her head trauma.

"Well, I remember seeing the chains on my tires, seeing you across the lot, and feeling my jacket snag on the truck. The next thing I knew, you had crossed four car-lengths, wedged yourself between Tyler's car and mine, and even put a dent in the side of it with your body. I think you stopped it with your shoulders, but then you also steadied it with your hand, though I can't be totally sure because my eyes were closed." Edward sighed to himself, _She is accursedly perceptive._

"You know how that sounds, Bella," he said, gradually speeding up the car in anticipation of cutting the conversation short.

"Yeah, I do. I think it sounds like maybe you're a super hero."

"I'm not a super hero." Edward answered. There was a surety to his answer that Bella quickly picked up on. Edward knew exactly what he was, she just had to find the word for it. Sometimes crazed mothers picked up cars, nature was wacky that way. _So it did happen_, she thought triumphantly.

"An _ubermensch_, then." She tried using a word that got thrown around occasionally in history. Their conversation was surreal, especially the fact that Edward didn't actively deny any of her accusations.

"Bella, stop. Please. This is ridiculous." They were at the school now. Edward was ready to end the conversation.

"Well that ridiculousness saved my life." A pause. "You know what you are, don't you?" Edward answered by getting out of the car and crossing to her side, opening the door for her. She had vainly tried to break him of this habit, insisting that it made her feel like a pregnant princess-surgeon utterly incapable of opening a door. He had smoothly replied that it was polite, a language he had assumed she spoke.

"I'll figure it out," she warned, letting him live out his bizarre chivalric fantasy, "I'm smart that way." Bella was being playfully serious, walking beside him now. They'd developed a ritual and always stopped at her locker before homeroom, much to the gawking of passing students. Edward tried to change the subject, the only tactic that ever worked with Bella.

"What's in a name?" He quoted, and then, scrapping Romeo & Juliet he added, "You know, there's a word for the power people put into names. People like you who think it is so important to have the right word. _Onomastics_. Names and words have been culturally and psychologically important to mankind—"

"Humankind," Bella corrected absentmindedly.

"Yes, humankind, for centuries. People may have an idea of something, but until they can articulate it into a name, they are powerless. It is the process of naming which gives us control. Think Rumpelstiltskin or YHWH," He continued. She was carelessly shoving books and papers into her locker while listening. Edward examined the photos of bands and travel destinations posted inside her locker as he spoke,

"There's even a word for ideas that are not articulated in a language. _Lacuna_, it means pit or hole. I think linguists just say 'lexical gap' but that isn't as poetic."

"You mean all those words for snow that the Inuit have and we don't," Bella responded, trying to plan out which notebooks she needed. Edward was always surprised that someone so bright could be so disorganized. Her face scrunched as she tried to remember her class schedule, even though the semester was nearly over.

"Actually," he smiled, "that is a false story. I mean something like, _schadenfreude_ which is a German word we've outright stolen.

"It means to take pleasure in another's pain," he offered, imagining Rosalie, "We don't have a word for that, therefore there is a lacuna—" The bell rang, they had to get to homeroom before the next bell. He kept trying to explain as they muscled through the crowd, two giants oblivious to the world. Their paths dovetailed inside the classroom, he going to the C's and she to the S's. Instead of the usual nod, though, he suggested, "Maybe I can tell you more at lunch?"

Bella kept her mouth shut by sheer force of will and smiled politely, nodding. As soon as she turned her back to him though she mouthed, "OH MY GOD!" and let a grin peel back her features. She couldn't pay any attention during homeroom, which didn't matter anyway. She just stared at the gorgeous man-boy across the room and let herself think impossible thoughts involving the two of them together. They weren't sexual, Bella couldn't imagine showing herself naked to her doctor let alone _Edward_. But she did imagine lots of kisses. _I'm so dumb_, she thought fleetingly before letting the silly thoughts return.

* * *

><p>She psyched herself up for lunch, which followed Biology so she would have a double-dose of Edward. They had carried on parts of their talk about language, the power of names, and the empty spaces where words fail. When they sat down for lunch, him with nothing and her with a knapsack of leftovers, she felt confident enough to put forward an invitation.<p>

"The misfits are going to LaPush for a bonfire this weekend. You're invited, if you'd like to come,"

"LaPush beach?" Edward asked, a thoughtfulness to his voice, "Sorry, Bella. I stay away from that area." Bella bit her lip, an idea striking her.

"Edward, if it weren't LaPush would you go?"

He smiled, "Oh why yes, that would have been nice. I find bonfires fascinating. But not LaPush, no." His thoughts settled on the bright fires he had seen in his life, and the pieces of vampire carcass fueling those fires. He was attracted to the danger.

"Because your dad won't let you go to LaPush, right?" Bella asked, testing out a theory.

He shook his head, "None of us can go there. But I don't mind, we go elsewhere for entertainment." He had a funny smile in his eyes that Bella didn't notice.

"Is it," guessed Bella, "because there is a Native American reservation nearby? The Quileute?"

Edward's eyes snapped to hers, surprise breaking his features without his consent. The Quileute, just the name made him uneasy. He was trying to read her and failing. He didn't answer but Bella took it for a 'yes'.

"Edward, I need to talk to you seriously," she said, suddenly urgent. _Damn that Carlisle_, she thought to herself. "I want you to know that you can trust me. I won't judge you or your family, and I can keep a secret. Do you believe me?" She had noticed that Edward's social interactions were closely monitored, and she saw the imposed chasm between his family and everyone else. Now he expressed revulsion towards the only brown-skinned people for miles: something, or someone was controlling his actions.

"Bella, what is this about?" There was a dark cast to his eyes now. She imagined shadows growing around his eyes like storm clouds. The light in Forks was never good, but she swore his eyes were darkening, or his pupils widening.

"I want to be your friend, Edward," she said, holding out her hand.

"You are my friend," he said, looking at her hand and then quickly away, "unfortunately."

"Should you not be friends with me for some reason?" She pressed. Were they a family of only beautiful people? Was it like Charlie, and Edward's family didn't want him alone with girls? "Did your dad say something about it?"

Edward concentrated with unprecedented energy but could not access her brain. Was she reading his mind? His eyes narrowed, trying to suss out the potential behind this theory. No, he decided, she wasn't telepathic like him.

His family was worried about his self-control. Earlier this week they had argued about Bella. He could feel his brothers and sisters listening. This was a bad place for this conversation. Only the car was safe, and just barely.

"I really shouldn't have any friends, Bella," he said carefully. He knew she wouldn't take that for an answer though. Their earlier conversation came back to him, "Bella," he ventured, "what if I'm not the super hero? What if I am quite the opposite?"

Bella reached for his hand, overcome—she immediately regretted the gesture, pulling her hand back when he flinched. She said,

"Edward, you aren't bad! Don't listen to them. Everyone needs friends and you are lonely. You can talk to me." He had winced as if her touch were pain, he never let her near him. This also worried Bella.

"No, Bella. I cannot talk to you." There was an angry sound to his voice that Charlie would get just before yelling, but Bella kept going.

"Why not?" she said, "Who is stopping you?" She waited for the explosion but nothing came. Instead, slowly, and with a tremor to his voice Edward said,

"Go away, Bella. Now." Grabbing her purple knapsack she reluctantly obeyed.

* * *

><p>She didn't know if she had a ride home, and it worried her, but as she was gathering books from her locker after final period, Edward appeared. He seemed quietly apologetic, but they didn't talk about their earlier conversation.<p>

When they got in the car, he put on a CD and said,

"Listen."

She listened to the encapsulated silence, waiting. Edward had an incredible sound system, and she loved sharing music with him enough to override her urge to speak to him. An apologetic, shy piano put forth tentative notes, growing slowly more bold. It was Debussy, _Claire de Lune_. Renee would play it while cleaning the house back in Phoenix, and it was nice to not have the delicate sound drowned out by a vacuum. With Edward the music took on a sweet poignancy.

She remembered being confused the first few times she had heard it, unable to discern a melody from the fluttering keys. She had remembered enjoying the song enough to request it again from Renee, and she had to learn the name of it because she could never remember how to sing it. Even as she listened to the trilling waves of sound, she didn't know if a human could ever hum this music. It was confined by its instrument. Edward had timed the drive perfectly so that they could listen to it twice over before he dropped her off. She smiled and their fight appeared forgiven.


	10. Insult to Injury

**_Author's Note:_**_ As you can probably tell, this is a full-length story. Sorry that the pacing isn't as snappy as most fanfic, but I hope you're bearing with me. Please leave feedback, especially if you have suggestions for similar fics that are well-written :)_**  
><strong>

**Part the fourth: Onomastics**

The following morning, even though Bella's truck was back, Edward was in her driveway.

"Maybe I could go on one of your infamous family hikes?" Bella suggested as they walked from the car to her locker before homeroom. She was tired of making far-fetched conclusions about the Cullens, and curiosity had finally overpowered her own fear of his family. Though she and Edward seemed on speaking terms, something felt raw and unresolved since their fight. She hoped meeting his family and dispelling some of her wilder theories would smooth things out. But Edward laughed without looking at her,

"I think our hikes would be too intense for you, Bella. You'd never keep up." She froze at the remark. He had never made a disparaging comment about her weight before. She was hurt by the comment because it came from _him_. She didn't doubt that he was right, but he hadn't even pretended to find a compromise. She looked away, trying to regain her composure.

Edward realized he'd said something wrong and swore at himself in his head, _Why can't I read your mind, Bella Swan_?

"Bella," he asked slowly, "what is it?" He loved Bella because she made him human; but he had forgotten how irritating it was to be so vulnerable. With her, he no superiority—he was a jejune boy, stumbling blindly through her emotions, hurting them both as he flailed.

"Nothing," she said, banging around her locker, anything to keep from looking at him. She was afraid that if she looked, she would burst into tears.

"You're right," she cleared her throat, "I couldn't keep up. Forget it. I'll be sorry to miss you at the beach this weekend." Conversation over.

Bella's distraction allowed an overstuffed notebook to excitedly burst its contents and she automatically bent down to pick it up again. But Edward, apologetically eager and inhumanly fast, beat her to it. However, her dexterity was nothing next to his and she hit the crown of her soft human skull into his unyielding pate.

It was like she had fallen headfirst into a wall. She stumbled back, dizzy. Edward, already holding her papers together, reached out and pulled her back towards himself and away from the stream of students shuffling to homeroom.

"Are you okay, Bella?"

She shook her head to clear it, but Edward took that as a "No" and began pulling her towards the nurse's. She finally had enough sense to realize what he was doing and protested. She couldn't bear his helpfulness.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I just had a jolt. Give me back my stuff, thief," she muttered, still dazed but trying to hide it from him.

They had reached homeroom and their paths would part.

"I'm still angry at you." Bella forced a smile, dizzy and confused but trying to play it off. Edward gave a reluctant smile back, she seemed to be functioning well enough but he couldn't conduct an exam on the spot. They parted with a small nod until Biology. He kept his ear on her heart rate, but it was normal. He wished Carlisle were here—Edward had helped his father in medicine before, but he couldn't bring himself to touch this particular girl.

Bella had a wicked headache through the day but fought it off, sipping soda to see if the caffeine would help. The cogs in her cognition felt gummy and she arrived late to Biology interrupting the teacher's demonstration at the front of the class. Edward wasn't at their table, but she sat down quickly, grateful to be sitting. Then, she smelled it.

Her stomach, which had been only mildly upset in empathy with her jumbled head, declared full solidarity and promptly turned upside-down.

The students were blood typing today, and the teacher had a volunteer. She watched the blood ooze from the boy's finger and drip onto a test paper. Rust. Salt. The smell of blood. Her mouth salivated in a bad way, in the _Get-ready-for-some-hurling _way. Her head throbbed. She shot her hand into the air and without waiting for acknowledgment she said in a loud rush of words,

"Bloodmakesmesick-Ifeelfaint-CanIgotothenurse?"

No one was going to argue with the queasy green giant. She was already halfway to the door when the teacher blinked owlishly saying,

"Of course, Miss Swan. Do you need someone to take you to the-?" But she had already lurched free of the classroom.

"Okay then," he said, turning back to the class. "Anyone else?" he asked brightly.

Meanwhile, Bella Swan was throwing up in the girl's room. She had just barely made it. She felt like it was coming out of her ears, like her whole head was exploding. She flushed the toilet and collapsed next to it, not caring about germs. She groaned and didn't even feel embarrassment as she heard two girls scurry away, grossed out. She waited to see if another round was coming, leaning her head against the cool metal of the stalls. She closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, Edward's hand was on her shoulder, shaking her lightly,

"Bella? Bella, open your eyes."

He had heard the passing thoughts about Bella from across the school grounds. Usually it was with purpose and pleasure that he sought her out, an excuse to inhale her heavenly scent, an excuse to open himself to her powers. But the tenor of the thoughts had alerted him something was wrong with Bella. All his heroic bravura faded at the sight of a sick girl crumpled in a bathroom stall. He pleaded with her to open her mud-brown eyes.

She complied, begrudgingly, and mumbled incoherently. Despite his perfect hearing, Edward couldn't understand any of it. He put his hand to her forehead, but she was a normal human temperature. She smiled and let out a long, _mmmmmmm_ of pleasure, enjoying the coolness of his skin on her throbbing head. Finally she remembered she was supposed to be mad at him, and also she had just thrown up on herself. He got a few words out of her then,

"Go away, Edward," she said weakly.

"Bella, you need to go to the nurse," he said, "can you walk?" He was helping her up now, nearly lifting her. She stood, wobbly on her legs, and threatened to collapse again. In a magnificent sweeping motion, Edward swung the overweight six-foot-tall woman into his arms, avoiding the close walls of the small bathroom. He carried her out of the girls' room and into the hallway. If he could have heard Bella's thoughts, there would be plenty of swears and self-deprecating remarks.

He brought her into the nurse's office and the two women simultaneously exclaimed, "Oh my-!" at the sight. It appeared to be an impossible physical act. Edward Cullen was understood to be a fantastic specimen in the sense that Michelangelo was understood to be an artist, but nevertheless, the nurses were surprised that he could easily handle something so burdensome as Bella Swan. He laid Bella onto a cot and one of the nurses, still staring open-mouthed at Edward asked him, "Are you okay?"

Burning brown-gold met her surprise, all his worry for Bella winnowed into smoldering contempt for this woman. He had seen his own entrance through their eyes, and it angered him that even the adults degraded Bella. The nurse quickly looked away and to Bella, who was looking more conscious.

"Are you okay?" She asked more competently. Bella mumbled a response that Edward heard clearly: the blood-typing in Biology. He felt a bend in his structure, a weakening of a joint somewhere important. She did that to him.

"They are blood-typing in Biology," he stepped in as translator, "I think it made her sick." The nurse was taking Bella's temperature by ear and as she leaned over she nodded sagely to herself, "Oh, yes it did. Bella," she said, raising her voice as if talking to a child, "did you throw up?"

In her dizzy, queasy state Bella could still feel the burn of shame as the boy she obsessed over stood by, hearing about her vomit. She nodded vaguely, and when the thermometer was removed she turned to the wall, away from the attention. Her hand went to cradle her head. She just wanted to fall asleep and disappear.

"Bella," the nurse asked and Edward took a small step back, hearing the woman's thoughts, "does your head hurt?"

"The accident," he muttered, knowing her head trauma was more recent. Bella made a pathetic noise that indicated yes, her head hurt very much. What had once been weakened in Edward by their kindred avoidance of blood was now burst. The scaffolding that kept his marble body upright began to snap, and with a strong sense of sinking he collapsed into a nearby chair.

The movement, however, remained smooth and noiseless, catching no one's attention. He should have seen the signs, but he was blinded by Bella and had difficulty thinking clearly whenever she was in his thoughts. He always hurt Bella and would always hurt her, no matter how hard he tried to protect her. And now, with a minor bump on the head, he had given her a concussion. The word was repeating in the nurses' brains as they asked Bella questions and checked her pupils. It got louder and louder, an alarm of syllables. Edward could have blocked them out if he tried hard enough, but instead he sank his head into his hands and let the word berate him: _concussion concussion concussion_.

"Her accident was a week ago," one of the nurses said softly to the other. Doubt. Edward spoke up,

"I saw her bump her head before homeroom. She was leaning down to get something and lost her balance, bumped into a wall." That was a better explanation than the truth. The truth being that his body wasn't just the opaque color of sculptured stone, but also resembled it in strength, weight and density. His monsterous body had hurt her.

The nurses made calls and didn't question Edward, who stayed. Bella was talking now, and they'd put an ice pack on her head. One nurse was on the phone while the other administered mental tests to Bella, who seemed to be doing better but still looked pale. Chief Swan was busy and could not be reached for what the nurses deemed "not an emergency" and so Edward offered to take Bella home. He did not mention that he was the only ride she had these days.

"That's very kind of you, Edward. She's coming round just fine. If it is a concussion it seems minor, just agitated by the nausea. They said Chief Swan would be home in a few hours, would you be able to watch her until then? She might just want to sleep it off, but it would be best if someone is around in case she falls or anything develops."

Edward's voice was calm, detached and clinical. The nurses trusted in this seventeen-year-old's competency and never even asked him why he wasn't in class or whether he could miss the rest of school. On the inside, however, he was flaying himself alive, setting fire to his structure and beating against the walls of his body. He hadn't even recognized how much hope he had harbored for Bella, but now it was all gone.

* * *

><p>"Are you ready to go, Bella?" He asked softly, distantly. She nodded. The nausea had finally passed and she could feel the medicine the nurse gave her relieving the headache. It had just been a messy conglomeration of events, now that she had forgotten the smell of blood and her headache was clearing, she felt almost normal.<p>

As they walked to Edward's car in silence, Bella remembered that he had carried her and she blushed furiously. She remembered his comment earlier that morning about her weight and grew flustered, red. He had lifted her, felt exactly how enormous and unwieldy she was; it was too much to bear. He turned, stopping.

"What's wrong?" he asked with transparent concern. She shook her head dismissively, still walking.

"I just can't believe you carried me." She felt irrationally angry now. Suddenly she didn't want to get into the car with Edward. She said she wanted to walk home.

"Six miles?" He barked an incredulous laugh, "In the cold? With all of your books and what appears to be a concussion, Bella?"

"I don't have a concussion. Besides, I need to lose some weight," she added angrily. Life with Edward was making her dizzy and she found herself shedding inhibitions around him. For one, she actually let herself get mad at him.

"Walking home once won't affect your weight," he said, confused by her mood swings. Edward began to worry that her head injury was worse than the nurses' had thought.

"Edward!" She seethed, again taking his remark pejoratively. She stopped herself, feeling tears at the back of her head. The Cullens didn't understand being overweight. She couldn't understand Edward. Everything was so confusing.

"Please, Bella. Let me drive you home today."

"Fine," she muttered. As they walked to his car she said,

"Edward, I thought you liked me." The statement made him stop in his tracks. He stared at her, intense eyes boring into her own.

"I do like you Bella," he replied, pained. Which was worse, loving this succulent morsel or her not knowing it? He knew this would have been a perfect moment to break her heart, but he was too weak to do it.

Since he'd started driving her to school he'd experimented with telling the truth. It was a tiny thing at first; an unnoticeable act. But as Bella warmed to him, he found the act of truth-telling addictive, and he was beginning to fear he might not know when to stop. Now she stood before him, flustered, hurt, and sore from his own wrongdoing. Nothing else mattered, not when she was standing in front of him, hurting like she was. More truth came out.

"Bella Swan you are the only person I have liked in years."

She was shocked by the sadness in his tawny eyes. She felt ashamed for having been so short with him.

"Really?" She said dumbly. She couldn't help feeling incredulous. No one in the school knew what to make of their bizarre friendship.

"In fact," he said, closing their usual distance, "I like you too much." He could hear her heart beating now. He was close enough that he could feel her breath fall on his face. An urge developed deep within his marble center. Nameless desire. Inarticulate. Confusing. Intoxicating.

"Too much for what?" she asked.

"For your own safety," he said heavily, wrestling internally.

The smell of Edward near her cleared her senses like smelling salts. He wore a light cologne of spices and snow. She felt electrically aware of everything around her, the residual fog of Forks had lifted. A disjointed piece of Bella noticed that Edward's breath didn't show up in the cold air.

"Safety from whom?" She asked softly, caught up in the clarity and truth of the moment. A voice in her head began yelling in an escalating chant, "Is he going to kiss you? Is he going to kiss you!"

He held up his hand and she recognized the offer. He never let her touch him, even fleetingly. She brought her fingertips to his, pressed her cold palm on his own. Through the immense satisfaction of touch, she heard the mean, petty voice inside her head commenting on how big her hands were, saying that Edward could never love a fat girl. She told that voice to shut the hell up and she closed her eyes, waiting for Edward's answer.

"From me."

She let the silence hang in the air, feeling this precious moment of vulnerability. His fingertips were smooth, with crescent moon nails peeking just over the ridges. Though she felt an electricity in his skin, his hands stayed cold.

"I'm not afraid of you," she said softly, opening her eyes. He dropped his hand and turned to the car.

"I know. It worries me, Bella."

"You feel… protective," she chose the word carefully as she followed him, "You saved my life," she was walking beside him, "you carried me to the nurse."

"I am protective of you. _That_ is the rub. If I cared enough I'd make you stay away from me. But I'm greedy for you." The truth, breaking forth.

Bella waited, unsure how to respond. "Greedy?" she prompted.

"You make me feel human. And crazy. And… happy." She smiled at this.

"I like you, too, Edward. You're thoughtful and…" she didn't know how to word the next part, "…and you take life seriously. The others feel… frivolous. Careless."

"You begin to really care about life when you realize monsters are real," he said, opening the door for her like always. "I really am sorry I cannot go to LaPush with you." The memory of yesterday's fight flared up inside her and she felt shame. She got in the car and he was fluidly, suddenly beside her. He moved so quickly. He started the engine.

"I worry about those misfits. Promise me, Bella, please promise me that you will keep safe."

Bella smiled, the misfits were harmless and stupid, "Promise," she sang playfully, drunken on his attention. But Edward forced eye contact with her.

"Promise." He repeated. She responded to his gravity by touching the cuff of his jacket, avoiding his skin.

"I promise, Edward."

* * *

><p>Later that night Bella mentioned Edward's behavior to her mother on the phone. The mother and daughter had been talking for nearly an hour. For the first time in her life, Bella felt the odd sensation of missing someone but not wanting to leave her current situation.<p>

"I'm worried," Bella said, a phrase she used too often. She began to check off a mental list, "They have weird, strict diets; they are only allowed to interact within the family; they _date_ each other, although they aren't actually related," she admitted, "They're raised to be perfect and severely punished when they are 'bad'. They can't go near the Native American reservation or make friends with anyone at school and Edward keeps calling himself a _monster_."

"God, honey who are you hanging out with?" Renee laughed, then added, "You know, I did a little searching and that Dr. Cullen belongs on a TV show, not in some dark little backwoods town. Is his son that gorgeous?"

"Mom, that's not the point." Bella said, shifting the phone to her other ear.

"I bet he is! I know that voice. You're hiding something," Bella could hear Renee's smile, "Well," she graciously changed the subject so as to no longer embarrass her daughter, "it does sound bad. But it isn't proof of harm. These religious-type families can be insular but still loving. You should give them the benefit of a doubt in such a small town. When I was stuck there I always felt on the outs, maybe they do, too.

"Well," Renee decided, "just try to get to know his family better. You may not like to admit it, but kids are a lot like their parents. It will give you a more rounded picture."

"He's adopted, Mom. The whole family is. Have you seen how young Dr. Cullen is?"

"I know that," Renee said dismissively, "and I told you I stalked the microfiche at the library to look at his pictures—"

"Microfiche? Mom, haven't you heard of the internet?"

"Yeah, and the internet doesn't _have_ microfiche!" Renee returned. Their conversation sidetracked for another few minutes regarding Renee's staunch refusal to enter the twenty-first century. Bella, not taking after her parents' ludditism, bemoaned the stone-age computer Charlie kept in their basement. Eventually, it was Renee who pulled the conversation back.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter if he's adopted." Renee said in a moment of thoughtfulness, "You clearly think that he is impressed by his new parents, so he is going to emulate them. Love clears bloodlines, honey. You meet those parents, and I'm sure Edward will start making more sense. And keep an open mind, will you? Not everyone is as level-headed as you." Again the smile came through the phone line, and Bella imagined the sunshine on the other end as well.

"Thanks, Mom," she said. Growing up with Renee had forced Bella to take on an authoritative and parental role, especially as Renee explored her newfound freedom in the city of Phoenix and the dating pool. Bella knew she could be condescending towards Renee and treat her like a child, but occasionally her mother would surprise her with a burst of emotional intuition and sagacity. She was spontaneous and felt the world inside her—the complete opposite of Bella and Charlie. Bella said goodnight to her mother and hung up on her connection to sunshine and warmth.

She sat in bed, massaging the tender parts of her skull. One bump from the asphalt, one from Edward's head. She didn't blame him, Bella had never been well-coordinated and usually felt uncomfortable in her ungainly body. She had always been ashamed of herself and quick to take the blame.

The Cullen-Hales did all seem to have some sort of mild skin disorder, she mused. The town rumor was that the good doctor specifically adopted children with a specific disease, one that he seemed to share himself. But that sounded so outrageous. Everything about Edward was outrageous. From his car to his speech to the way he could read everyone in school but her.

An old theory snaked back into her thoughts. Maybe Edward didn't like girls. She knew there were families where that kind of thing really was considered monstrous, and it would explain some of his actions, but not all of them. Although an embarrassed part of her hoped he would confess his undying love for her, she'd rather he were honest than romantic.

She had given up a lot of things when she chose to leave Phoenix, and one of those was a group of _real_ misfits: the outcasts and wallflowers of society who were ostracized for being themselves. Not like the misfits she was relegated to now, who bought their ostracism prefabricated. She supposed they were more goth than misfit, but they weren't even really that: they were whatever was popular in their tiny clique. She had never been popular, but with the nerds and the gays at least she had been accepted.

Now that she was seen with Edward more often, the misfits had nearly disowned her, acting as though she had betrayed them. In a class of less than one hundred students, it was incredible to Bella that such strong factions existed. She hoped that going to the beach would be a sort of peace-offering so that she could still make some friends in this soggy town.

Her thoughts returned to Edward. So what if Edward was gay? Well, a part of her would be heartbroken, but the reality of him loving her was so distant that she had already broken her heart a thousand times over it. What mattered was whether he would still be her friend, still trust her. If Edward had a different preference, she wanted him to be comfortable enough with her to tell her. It hurt her that he kept secrets, especially since she had unloaded most of her own. The relationship felt lop-sided, leaving Bella open and vulnerable.


	11. Introduction to Jacob

Sometimes Bella hated being diplomatic. Rationally, she knew that if she was going to finish out high school in Forks she needed to have some pretense of a social life—and she honestly wanted one. The misfits had been the only ones to welcome her when she was new and weak, and she was moved by loyalty to keep up the forced friendship. But as she watched the party set itself up on the beach she began to regret coming.

She cheered up when a group of Native American teenagers met the misfits. She never got to see the kids who went to the Tribal school, and she wondered if any of them would be friendly.

Jessica asked, "Where's your pretty boyfriend, Edward Cullen?" She sang the name teasingly, nastily. Before Bella could tell the girl to shut her mouth a tall, handsome and older Quileute boy said,

"The Cullens are not allowed here!"

"He's not coming!" Bella said defensively, "And he's not my boyfriend," she followed lamely.

"Aw, come on, Sam!" One of the other Quileute boys laughed. "You're crashing the party!"

"Yeah, don't be such a downer." Another laughed.

"Did you invite any of the Cullens?" the one named Sam demanded ignoring the younger boys. The others groaned and ignored him, bored by his fixation. They sat next to some shy, giggling misfit girls.

"No," Bella responded, irritated by his anger and feeling attacked from all sides. "Jeeze. No I did not, okay?" he nodded, satisfied with her response. He looked at the younger boys sitting with their arms draped around girls and gave a meaningful look of disapproval.

"Don't do anything stupid," He ordered before turning around and leaving them alone.

"Finally!" One of them sighed when Sam was out of earshot.

Mike brought out beer and said,

"Trade you for some peyote!"

"You know we don't have that shit," laughed a young, long-haired kid with brilliant teeth. "But we have whiskey!"

The misfits whistled in approval and Bella felt uncomfortable. It wasn't the underage drinking that bothered her, but the flagrant stupidity. The girls settled flirtingly close to the handsome boys, lured by their warm skin in such a pallid town. It was intoxicating, that brownness, it promised sunshine. She remembered the dust in Phoenix with something like nostalgia.

Jessica was still glaring at her with hostility—she had been made to look stupid in front of the cute older boy.

"Well of course Edward isn't your boyfriend. Everybody knows _that_." Jessica said meanly to Bella, adding a laugh, "He's _Edward Cullen_," she said the name as though it were magical—and it probably was: a secret password into the pants of any girl in town.

"Shut up, Jessica," Bella said flatly, "I'm sick of your petty jealousy." She turned away, ready to walk the beach alone until someone sobered up enough to drive her home. She noticed an uneasy, awkwardly tall Quileute boy with a young face. He held back from the rest of his friends. She stepped cautiously around the large rocks to get to him, ducking her head in the wind.

"Hi," she offered, liking his awkwardness. "I'm Bella."

"I'm Jacob." He smiled, glad someone was talking to him. His face was young, made girlish by his long, loose hair. Even though he was a little taller than Bella she could tell he was much younger.

"How old are you?" Bella asked suspiciously, playfully, "Sixteen?" He blushed charmingly.

"Fifteen. It's my first time at one of these parties." He had a beautiful way of speaking, putting emphasis on different syllables. It was the local accent, but on him it didn't sound small-town. He sounded like he knew a different language, and it intrigued Bella to find a new world in such a small place.

"It's my first time, too," she said, "and I'm already seventeen. Party kind of sucks though, huh? Want to ditch?"

"And go where?" He asked with shy interest, kicking at the pebbles.

"Walk the beach. We can stay in earshot. I don't know the place well anyway," Bella said, not wanting to scare the boy. Besides, she was curious about the Cullen-Quileute rivalry and hoped he might spill. "I don't want to watched them go from stupid to retarded." She said honestly.

"Me neither," he confessed.

When they were a ways from the bonfire he spoke first,

"Are you Isabella Swan?" he asked, adding, "My father is Billy Black."

"He gave me my truck!" She responded in unabashed glee. She suddenly realized she couldn't remember Billy's son, only his daughters. Embarrassed, she tried to make up for her poor memory.

"Did we play together when we were little?" she asked clumsily. Jacob gave a warm laugh and shook his head,

"No, you were more interested in my sisters, and you didn't play much anyway. But I remember you, even if it was a long time ago. Rebecca always made you play the Ken doll and you'd get so angry." Bella remembered that.

"What do you do now?" she asked, watching her footing as she maneuvered the slippery rocks of the cold beach. Ocean spray was salting her face, and she found herself enjoying the refreshing smell. Maybe they'd get lucky and find a tide pool. She suddenly remembered that she had been here before as a kid, and she used to love the beach.

"I work on cars. I rebuilt that engine in your truck, you know."

The surprise and pleasure on Bella's face was earnest and immediate, and she nearly lost her balance on the rocks as she said,

"You _rebuilt_ it? Wow, Jacob! Really?" Practical skills always eluded Bella. Her enthusiasm was flattering and he blushed at the attention, bringing out the roundness to his chin. It made him handsomely youthful, a lovely contrast to his height.

Jacob tied back his long black hair in a rubber band, the wind was pushing it into his eyes. He looked better with it pulled back, Bella noted.

"She's a beast-monster, that truck. She'll never let you down." His cheeks rounded as a grin spread across his face, "Unless you need to go faster than 40 mph." Bella laughed, then said,

"You know I got in an accident with that truck?" She asked him. He looked up, worried,

"Oh, come on," she smiled, shoving him lightly, "you should know better than anyone that truck is a tank. Barely a scratch. But I did have to replace the taillight. Dowling is such a rip-off. He took over a week and plenty of cash."

"Oh, don't go to Dowling. He's a hack. Even if he had training, he doesn't have the most important tool in a mechanic's box," Jacob said. They finally made their way to sand. Even though it dragged on her boots, Bella was relieved to look at something other than her feet for awhile.

"What's that?" She asked.

"_Love_." Jacob said dramatically. There was a beat and then the two of them burst into laughter. Bella felt relaxed around him. He also seemed unused to his height and strength, and it gave her some confidence. She rarely could touch anyone without knocking them down, but he seemed solid and springy. He was so young and sweet that Bella felt like a protective older sister.

"Yeah, she is sturdy," he sighed, walking with a loose gait, "Even if she runs slow, I was a little reluctant to see her go." He said, kicking loose stones as they walked.

"You can come and visit her whenever you want." Bella offered in a friendly voice. He seemed to like the idea. Bella felt that they were relaxed enough around each other now and she segued in what she hoped was a smooth manner,

"What was the big deal about the Cullens?" she asked. The beach was curving and they were both glancing at the beauty of the bonfire in the distance.

"They're not supposed to come on the rez," he said, adding quickly, "It's nothing really. Just some superstitious junk and scary stories," he laughed, erasing the serious look that had crossed his face.

"Superstitious?" she prompted, hoping he'd continue.

"Yeah," he grinned mischievously. Bella didn't know it, but Jacob loved having an audience. She reminded him of his sisters, and he remembered telling them the ancient tales around camp fires with hot dogs and warm soda. He missed them terribly, especially ever since Billy lost his legs.

"I love scary stories," Bella prodded.

"It's supposed to be a secret," he began mysteriously. Jacob enjoyed the attention, even if Bella wasn't conventionally pretty.

"I won't tell anyone," Bella said, "I'm just curious. I promise."

Jacob sat down on a bleached log which had the roots of the tree still attached. Bella sat next to him, her hands shoved into her pockets, keeping her distance but still enjoying some closeness with the boy. They both stared out across the pebble beach back to the bonfire.

He began in a voice that was a little huskier than his speaking tones. It was musical and careful with the words, reverent of the story. There was an art to this, and he seemed well-practiced.

"Do you know the origin story of the Quileute?" Bella shook her head, already rapt and unwilling to speak aloud.

"There are a lot of stories. Some of them cross with others. You know, we have our own story of the flood. But ours is true," he motioned to the ocean bearing down on their tiny reservation, "floods are very real here. When the biggest one came, thousands of years ago, the Quileute tied their boats to the tops of the highest trees to survive." He then pointed to a far-off rock island in the ocean. "Great leaders die there, and their bodies are put in boats which we hang in trees. That's who we are: the ocean and the woods. Though," he added with a shy break, "we haven't done that for awhile.

"The best stories are of our origin. K'wa'iti made the Quileute from men and wolves, the best of both," Bella liked how Jacob said the name, inflecting a pause and using unfamiliar syllables. It made Forks less suffocating to have something as rich and intricate as this tribe and language. "We're from the woods and the ocean, we run and we swim, we sweat and we bleed. But our enemies, the cold ones, they are not from here.

"The first story of a cold one speaks of when a village found that a man had fallen from the clouds. He was weak and made up of nothingness, so the people cared for him and brought him back to health. But he would not eat food and did not drink water—this was when they should have realized he was a demon. The cold ones live by taking their substance from humans, it is the only way they can maintain their human form.

"Until K'wa'iti formed the wolf brothers there was no way to catch or fight the air. But the warriors could grasp them with sharp teeth and destroy the fake bodies. The cold ones are our natural enemies, draining people when they are let near."

"What does this have to do with the Cullens?" Bella asked. Jacob gave a dark smile. He tried to keep the story playful, but Bella could sense that he cared about it and took his traditions seriously.

"The legend is that my great grandfather signed a treaty with a civilized group of cold ones. There were a small number who promised not to hurt humans, and we allow them to live nearby in secret so long as they do not break the treaty. Still, the cold ones cannot be trusted: they are shifty and without remorse. They cannot control themselves like the wolf brothers. They are true monsters."

"And the Cullens are from that line of cold ones?" Bella asked, feeling awe and fear well inside her. Jacob had been waiting for this question and he leaned in with a dramatic whisper,

"Bella Swan," he intoned, "the Cullens are those cold ones, they have been around for generations, staying young by the power of stealing blood." Bella felt queasy at the word _blood_, her experience at school too recent.

Jacob burst his own magic with dismissive laughter, "Vampires and werewolves. A good story, eh?"

"You're a great storyteller," she smiled, feeling nervous and knowing that a truth was forming in the back of her brain. "Look, I have goose bumps." She rolled up a sleeve to show him her arm.

"It is a good story," he agreed, turning serious, "but that's all it is. It makes me angry to see that some of our wiser leaders treat it so seriously, though. And then there are even some of the younger guys like Sam who believe it. Dad doesn't even go to the hospital any more because Dr. Cullen works there and they think he is the leader." he scowled disapprovingly.

"I don't particularly know or like the Cullens," he shrugged, "but they can't help being different. We shouldn't treat them like that. You can see why the story should be kept secret," he added, "it makes us look bad."

"I'll keep your secret," Bella promised, "I know it's just a story," she lied.

* * *

><p>When she got home, she fired up the buzzing, clunking machine which her father thought was a computer. The irritating dial-up screech made her almost claw her own hair out. Between the slowness of the computer and that of the connection, Bella decided she had to distract herself between websites. As the computer made its irritating "thinking noise" she cracked open an old cookbook and decided to try her hand at dinner.<p>

Eventually she was on-line and she started with Wikipedia, feeling cold sweat on her brow as beautiful, haunting paintings depicting the monsters scrolled by. She devoured the page and used the references to work her way to more esoteric websites. As each page loaded she would head back up to the kitchen to complete another step in the recipe and to think about whatever she had just read.

The myth crossed cultures, blurred canons and only further confused Bella. _Vampire_, she thought. The definition didn't always fit: Edward walked around in the daytime, didn't freak out around the crosses on people's jewelry, and his teeth looked normal. Nevertheless, the word had a power to it that she couldn't shake. She clung to one particular myth of benevolent vampires, and reminded herself that the Cullens in Jacob's story had been deemed "civilized".

"So how was the beach?" Charlie asked over dinner. Bella, missing the spicy food in Phoenix, had made enchiladas. It was such an improvement she wondered if maybe she should cook all the dinners.

"You know kids," Bella muttered, still distracted, "they can be pretty stupid. There was a lot of drinking and flirting. I stayed out of it." Charlie eyed her, the cop-half proud of her and the Charlie-half sad that his daughter didn't enjoy parties. He had been to plenty of beer-fueled bonfires in his youth and saw it as an important rite of passage.

"I met Jacob Black," she offered, "I didn't recognize him." The name had an effect on Charlie which she hadn't anticipated.

"Oh, little Jake," he said, the sound muffled by his mustache. He looked sad.

Bella could tell that Charlie missed Billy. It didn't help that she was starting to believe Billy was right about the Cullens being vampires.

"Well Jake is looking good," she offered, "He's taller than me even though he's just fifteen." Charlie raised an eyebrow at the compliment and Bella blushed, "Not like that, Dad." She mumbled. Charlie was always hoping she would find a nice boy, but he didn't seem to want that nice boy to be Edward Cullen—no matter who his father was.

"Yeah, he always took after his mother," Charlie said sadly. "It was a real tragedy when they lost her. Then the girls moved out, and finally Billy lost his job from the diabetes. It's a lot to take on as a kid, but Jake seems to be doing all right."

Bella had forgotten about Sarah. The car accident had been so brutal that the Blacks hadn't held their customary wake.

"I'd forgotten about the accident," she said softly, "what happened, exactly?"

Charlie shook his head.

"Bad weather, bad break, bad drivers. A confluence of events, as they say. No one was charged with anything, but the other driver had been drinking some. A tourist, I think." Bella bet that was why Jacob didn't drink with the others. It probably also explained some of his fixation on cars. She was glad she had stayed to regale him with ghost stories that were more on the silly, dramatic side than actually scary. Charlie had finished his second helping of the spicy casserole and sat back.

"I should patch things up with Billy. It's not really his fault, he's just so attached to his culture. I guess I can understand that, and I know he gets good care from Jake. It'd be nice to have them for dinner sometime, wouldn't it, Bells?"

Bella nodded and smiled. The friendly silence between them was creeping back and she let it, looking forward to returning to her thoughts.

* * *

><p>Throughout the weekend, she alternately studied her homework and her suspicions concerning Edward. Eventually she reached a point where she realized she didn't care. She was more hurt by Edward's secretive actions than whatever curse he had upon him. So long as he wasn't actually killing anyone she didn't see what the problem was. Come Monday, she had already worked up a self-righteous speech for Edward.<p>

By now it had become an eagerly anticipated ritual. Bella would wake up, look outside a window and see no Edward. But no matter how quickly or slowly she had breakfast, he always was just arriving to pick her up. _Was that a vampire thing?_, she wondered to herself, framing everything she knew about Edward against this idea.

She enjoyed their conversations, and recently Edward had revealed his tendency to skip class so he could listen to music in his car. He still excelled in school, so he never seemed to get in trouble. He listened to more than just impressionistic classical music, but his tastes were so varied Bella couldn't understand them. She would catch herself listening to a song while doing homework and thinking, _Would Edward like this_? She loved listening to his music, it was the only way he would open up to her. As he explained what he loved about each song, or let the song speak for itself, she felt like he was letting her in a little. But none of the songs had warned her that he might be a vampire.

When she got into his car, before she could say a word, he pressed play and a trio of harmonizing women began to sing _a capella_. The sound was enchanting, and there was an Appalachian flare to the women's words. The harmonies were taut with discord that made Bella pleasurably uncomfortable—yearning for the tonic. Music was also the only way to get Edward to slow down while driving.

They savored the song together. Bella lost herself to the harmonies weaving around her head, but when it finally faded her brain reminded her: _vampire_! It was too late to bring it up now. She carried on distracted but friendly conversation on their way to homeroom and later in Biology. Edward noticed that she was distant but he couldn't possibly guess at the cause.

* * *

><p>At lunch, Bella stared at the Cullen table. She only ate with Edward a few times a week, he had joint custody with the Misfits. She was trying to reconcile what she saw with her weekend research. The more she examined them: aloof, cliquish, beautiful, anachronistic, haunted—the stronger the evidence.<p>

"Bella, are you going to the dance?" Mike asked her. It was a Sadie Hawkins dance, and Bella hated Mike but a flash of hope shocked her system: was he asking her to the dance? No, of course not. It's a girl's choice, and she was Bella Swan. Undesirable, awkward. Besides, she eventually reminded herself, she didn't like Mike.

"No, I don't dance." She said. The misfits laughed—she could never really differentiate between when they laughed at her and when they laughed with her.

"You don't have to dance. Anyway," said Jessica, "we're all going to Silverdale this weekend because it's the only place with a Hot Topic and we need dresses." Jessica eyed her and said in an empathetic voice, "They might have a Torrid next door, you know, the plus size department. They could find a dress that fits you."

"Yeah, you'd look so cute in a corset," another misfit girl added. The table laughed and Bella looked away, too ashamed to even respond. She caught Edward staring at their table with a mixed expression. Anger, then a smile. _She would look pretty cute in a corset_, he was thinking. His eyes flickered to hers and the smile warmed his pallid skin. She smiled back. Suddenly his eyes darted to Jessica, darkening, and Bella heard Jessica say,

"Oh, have you asked _Edward_ to the dance?" a sing-song voice. Bella knew Jessica had meaty dreams of him ripping her clothes off and was burning with jealousy. Often Jessica purposefully went into lurid detail about these dreams to watch Bella squirm. Bella tried not to snap too often at Jessica, but sometimes she couldn't help but voice her opinion. She controlled herself for now.

"No, I told you. I don't dance. It would be awkward. Plus, we're just friends."

"Fag hag." Mike muttered.

"What is that supposed to even mean, Mike?" Bella said, remembering exactly why she hated Mike. If anything, the misfit table should be a gay haven.

"It means," Jessica broke in snottily, "that he only hangs out with you as a cover, because you're safe. It's a nice little exchange: he gets to pretend to be straight and you get to pretend to be cute."

Bella was about to lose her calm. "I'm sorry if a boy enjoys talking to me, Jessica, I know that's a foreign idea to you," she replied in a soft, menacing voice, "The boys you hang with don't let you talk, do they? Your mouth is always too full."

Bella stood, officially breaking with the group. She went outside to the not-so-secret area where smokers usually hung out. Standing upwind, she filled her lungs with clear, cold air. There were some kids there but she ignored them. She breathed deeply, and soon Edward found her. His presence intimidated the smokers and they dispersed grumpily.

"I saw that," he softly, "why do you hang out with them if they hurt you so much?"

Instead of answering, Bella asked, "Edward, are we really friends?"

"Bella," Edward had an intensity to his stare and she wanted to drop her gaze but fought the urge.

"Bella," he repeated, "You are my only friend."

"Then why do you keep secrets from me?" she asked, holding back tears. Her grandiloquent speech was gone now. She saw his fist clench, his jaw tighten.

"I want to protect you," he said softly with careful enunciation.

"Ignorance can only hurt me, Edward. You are hurting me." She turned to leave but he seized the back of her jacket, growling,

"Stop! Where do you think you are going?"

He was much stronger than her, with or without superhuman abilities, and she knew he could outrun her—hell, anyone could. But she glared at him, drawing herself to her full height. In a steady voice she said,

"Edward. Let go of me." Their eye contact held and she saw his eyes noticeably soften—his pupils must enlarge when he was angry because his eyes were solid black right now. He let go of her jacket.

"Bella—"

"Edward," she interrupted, "I don't care what you are. I care about honesty. If I'm your friend, if you care for me, you'll tell me the truth and then we can work though this together." He seemed like he would protest so she spoke again, "There are no hopeless cases, Edward. Please," she tried to make her intentions apparent on her face, tried to say, _I know, but I want you to tell me_.

But he was silent. She let him drive her home that day but as she left the car she said, "Remember the power of words, Edward? Onomastics? I've got that word now, but it is your place to use it. Please don't pick me up until you're ready to be honest with me." Edward watched the dark-haired girl with the seductive blood and the unsuspecting smile walk away from him.


	12. The V word

_**Author's Note:** Thank you for all your responses and I'd love to hear more feedback! All kinds of plot is going to suddenly start happening so I hope you're ready!_

The week passed. They were cold but cordial in Biology, and she was forced to reconcile with the Misfits. They "forgave" he angry outburst at Jessica, chalking it up to her apparent break-up with Edward. Thanks to the muffler on her truck, the whole school could hear whether Bella was driving the truck or not, rumor mill notwithstanding. Now that she wasn't a potential "Beautiful" Jessica was actually kind, apologizing for making fun of Bella's size. Seemingly reconciled, Bella agreed to join them that weekend in Silverdale, vainly hoping it would distract her from the stretch of silence yawning before her. She still refused to go to the dance.

When Charlie asked why Edward wasn't picking her up anymore she said their schedules changed. He didn't seem to mind the new situation. On the phone, her mother asked if Bella was still worried about his family life,

"No," Bella said, "I jumped to conclusions." Renee was thrilled to hear about a girls' night out, which she thought was very healthy for her daughter. It didn't matter that Bella had never spoken well of her friends and hated shopping.

"Do you need gas money? Cash for clothes? I'll tell Charlie to give you his credit card." Even Charlie, in his lugubrious way, seemed glad to see their awkward daughter making friends and going on dates. But Bella turned down the money, especially since it she associated with an award for finally acting normal. As an only child Bella knew her unpopularity worried her parents. They had been busy partying and breaking hearts at her age. Bella wondered if her parents would have picked on girls like her.

She got a ride to Silverdale with Jessica, who wasn't nearly so annoying when there weren't any boys around. They agreed to meet the other misfit girls at Hot Topic. It was a two-hour road trip and Bella finally got Jessica to talk about something besides sex.

A young, sweet part of Bella wanted to confide in Jessica; not about Edward's vampirism, but about how she felt for him. She wanted to gush, to giggle over his perfect hair and dreamy eyes. She wanted to lose herself to a moment of teenage adoration. But she knew as soon as she brought up the subject it would turn sour instantly. Jessica was the lemon waiting to curdle your cream—she would moan loudly about Edward's musculature and say stupid things like,

"Those are legs that know how to make love to a woman!" Her desperation to sound sexually worldly and adult only made her more pathetic, and Bella knew she could never reveal any crush, no matter how trivial, to someone like Jessica.

Nevertheless, she was actually starting to cheer up and feel pretty good until Jessica tried to offer advice.

"It's better that you aren't with Edward," she said, "can you imagine the _shame_? You would be such a freak show together, and he's already so weird."

"Jessica, why do you call them freaks if you're supposed to be a _misfit_? Aren't they the same thing?" Bella had said this before and got the same circular argument in return.

"Misfits just know what cool is, unlike those preppy kids who just want to live on Daddy's pension. We're having fun, doing what we're supposed to do. Those Cullen kids are all so… weird. Sexy, yeah, but they probably have freaky baggage." Then Jessica began to guess at their various sexual idiosyncrasies. Bella had had enough of this.

"Jessica, why do you have to sexualize _everything_?"

"Um," Jessica grinned, "because sex _is_ everything? Where have you been?"

"In the real world," responded Bella, "How many friends have you made being easy?" It was a low blow and Bella regretted it instantly—especially since they still had at least another twenty minutes left in their trip.

"More friends than you! I was trying to be nice letting you come on this little trip. You're absolutely pathetic, Bella! Everyone knows you are a pathetic, ugly virgin and Edward dumped you because you wouldn't put out."

"That's not—" Bella began but then shut herself up. She was angry and so was Jessica, and she couldn't think of anything to fix that. She turned away to look out the window and Jessica turned up the radio.

Finally they arrived at the mall. Much to Bella's displeasure, Jessica was in full-on bitch mode, passively remarking on Bella's gigantism and flirting shamelessly with the bored, tattooed store attendants.

Although Bella meant to use the time to escape from thoughts about Edward, she found it hard to put her energy into these shallow activities. She realized she was bringing the group down. It reminded her of the dates she would go on with Renee where she'd be the awkward third wheel. Her discomfort was exacerbated by the fact that she couldn't fit any of the clothes. She got tired of the girls suggesting accessories or saying, "Maybe you could fit the shoes—oh, you're feet are THAT big? Wow!"

She excused herself, saying she'd go to a local coffee shop outside the mall and meet them for dinner later. The mall gave her a headache and made her feel like prey in a zoo of predators.

* * *

><p>As soon as she was outside the mall she changed her mind—the air was crisp and inviting. She didn't need to spend money on coffee, she needed to enjoy a free walk. Turning her cell phone ringer to off she headed toward the more scenic part of town. Silverdale was full of trails and soon she was lost in her thoughts about Edward, his behavior, and her feelings for him. She confessed that she wanted him to kiss her, but so did most of the girls and some of the boys at school. How was she any different? Did she have a claim on his heart or did he really just want a friend?<p>

The vampirism felt like a moral secret, too. She didn't feel right applying the label to him, it was his job to confess to her, to trust her. Strangely, she wasn't worried about the implications of it. She was far more worried about Edward's psyche and confidence. The trail forked, but she continued along a thin path following it absentmindedly. Her head was full of thoughts and music, all their short trips between the school in that sacred Volvo. Without him, she found herself noticing music more and more often, wondering _What would Edward say about this song?_

Bella hadn't been paying attention and it wasn't until she saw the path dead-end into a parking lot that she heard the rowdy laughter. She'd left the trail long ago, and the footpath ended at a bump of asphalt, the poorly-paved lot ahead of her was littered with trash. Although it was getting dark out, she wasn't afraid. This was Silverdale, and she grew up in a city. Her sense of direction told her that she would just have to take a left on the next street to complete a square and arrive back at the mall where Jessica and the others would be waiting for her.

She dared a look at the boys gathered only a few feet away from her. Some were sitting on the curb, their backs to the small woods, the others were standing and smoking. There were half-crushed cans of cheap beer littered around their feet. They were handsome, well-built young men, probably of college age. They wore sports jerseys, hats and athletic shoes. They were probably popular. Jessica would flirt with them if she were here.

Bella walked past their loud laughter, hoping they wouldn't notice her and make snide comments. She just had to cross the parking lot and get to the street. But something felt wrong about the neighborhood and about the boys drinking in the woods. She only realized too late what the problem was: everything else was quiet. There were no cars, no pedestrians, no operating stores. This was a place people went when they didn't want to be discovered.

"Mmmmm mama! Look at that! She must be six feet tall!"

"Hey, girl!" one of the already drunk college boys yelled playfully, "want to play shiver me timbers? Show us those long legs!"

Bella kept walking, but there was a hesitation to her step. Were they flirting with _her_? What Jess had said to her in the car had stung. She didn't particularly like any of the boys at school, and she was still confused by her attraction to Edward; but it did hurt not having anyone express interest in her. Some girls were turning down boys left and right, as though it were an Olympic sport. Bella was still getting flustered when she thought someone like Mike, a boy she loathed, might ask her to a dance.

This never happened before, boys never gave her cat calls. She felt a little sorry for Jessica—it was difficult to ignore the attention. She turned to dare a glance and what she saw was not good. They weren't just playful, they were very drunk, even though it was only just getting dark, and there were at least four of them, maybe five. The light was disappearing quickly and from what Bella could tell they looked more menacing than jovial. Her heart went cold.

"She's not going anywhere," one of the guys said as he stood up, "not before we have some fun." He must have been the leader. They were just kids, only a few years older than Bella, but the leader's voice made Bella shiver. He was old enough to buy the beers, old enough to call the shots. She began to walk faster and she heard the quick footsteps as two of the boys ran to catch her. She knew she would never outrun them. They looked strong and fast. She whirled around,

"What do you want?" She would give them her wallet if she could just escape. Her voice cracked when she spoke, and she realized just how thirsty she was. Would she even be able to scream if she had to?

"We just want to hang out," one of the guys said, stopping just feet from her. The rest of the boys were standing and approaching.

"We've got beer, big girl. Why don't you stay with us for a little? We'll show you the woods."

They kept laughing, and it was the same kind of laughter she experienced at the misfit table. They were sharing a joke about her and there was cruelty to their humor, humor which was predicated on her ignorance.

"No, someone is expecting me," Bella said, loudly clearing her throat. She tried to work up some saliva, but her voice was hollow. She found herself backing up towards the street. There was still hesitation to her movements—she couldn't tell if she was overreacting or if they were actually dangerous. Her instincts told her to run, but her manners told her to talk her way out.

"They won't miss you," the leader said. "We'll show you a good time." He grabbed Bella's wrist and someone shouted—it was a man's voice.

A silent silver car had spun into the parking lot at high speed, nearly hitting one of the drunk boys standing around Bella, the rest of them yelled and jumped out of the way, but Bella stayed frozen. Her heart flew into her throat as the car slid to a stop two feet from her. Edward leaned over and threw open the passenger door yelling,

"Get in!"

He didn't even need to issue the command. She was already scrambling into the car with an alacrity which took the vampire by surprise.

Even before they pealed out of the alley together in reverse, she felt safe. He was flying down the street, looking paler than usual, and swerving crazily down side streets. His hands gripped the steering wheel with such force she felt sympathy pains for the metal.

"Are you okay?" she asked stupidly.

"Put your seatbelt on and talk. Say anything, please," he said authoritatively. "Anything to stop me from turning around this car and ripping their goddamn throats out of their—" his voice was escalating violently and Bella broke in,

"Thank you!" She shouted, "Thank you for getting me out of there!" Her voice was urgent and automatic, she had to calm Edward down fast.

"I got lost because I was supposed to be shopping at Torrid for pseudo-gothic dresses for the dance I'm not going to. But there isn't a Torrid and the mall makes me queasy. Everyone there is so desperate and horrible, I just had to leave. I wanted to go to a bookstore but the weather was nice so I went for a walk instead. I was lost in thought and now I'm late for dinner with the girls?" She was babbling but Edward latched onto her last sentence,

"Where? I will take you to them right now." He brought her to the agreed-upon restaurant while she numbly described the dresses the girls were looking at and how expensive it was to be non-conformist. Edward wasn't snorting like a bull anymore, but his absolute stillness was equally worrying. Luckily the girls were lurking outside the restaurant, and when they saw Bella their eyes bugged.

"We tried to wait for you, Bella," Jessica shot accusingly, her bitchy setting shooting up to eleven now that Edward was present, "but you never answered your _phone_ so we ate without you." She thought better of making a fat comment in front of Edward. Bella stayed in the car, speaking out the window. She was reluctant to leave Edward alone and glad for the excuse.

"Oh that's okay. I'm sorry I didn't answer. Edward's going to drive me home," more eye bugging, "see you at school!" and she pulled her head back in whispering, "Go, go, go!" while turning up the window.

Edward drove off.

"You need to eat," he said flatly. He had heard what Jessica had thought, and part of him wanted to shred her skin as well. No one, since she had been an infant, had ever told Bella Swan that she needed to eat. Usually they questioned her if she ever expressed hunger, as if it were a ludicrous idea that she could ever need food.

"I'm not hungry," she said honestly.

"Well I don't want you going into shock!" Edward said hysterically, his voice louder than necessary. _Maybe_ he_ is in shock, _Bella thought. Bella agreed to dinner for his sake and they arrived at a small Italian place. She listened to Edward's controlled breathing and wondered about it off-handedly. Do vampires need to breathe? He's doing a pretty bang-up job of it.

As they sat down at the tables, Bella reached over to touch the cuff of Edward's light-brown leather jacket—he was still uncomfortable with any kind of touch.

"Calm down, Edward," she said softly. He swallowed, staring at her.

"Why are you so calm?" he shot back, "You should be in shock."

"Edward, I'm okay. I'm worried about you right now."

The waitress interrupted for a drink order. Edward was short with her: two cokes, no ice. And no eye contact, apparently. But the waitress was noticeably affected by his looks and waved aside the curt order with a smile that waited two beats too long for a response. Edward did not take his eyes off Bella's hand on his sleeve. Nor did he listen to the voice in the waitress' head demanding attention. Finally, she left.

"Please, you do not need to worry about me, Bella," he managed, his voice soft as the worn leather of his coat. He kept his gaze away from hers. She wanted to trust him.

"Yes, I do. You wanted to kill those men. And you would have, if I had let you. Wouldn't you?" his silence gave affirmation. Finally the voice, so warm, so gentle, said,

"Does that scare you?"

Bella waited. Her silence would make Edward finally look at her. When he did, her heart stumbled and the immensity of the afternoon hit her. She knew she should be afraid of him, be revolted by his protective violence, but instead she felt sure and articulated love. She knew then the answer to her questions earlier that day: yes, she was completely enamored of Edward Cullen. No matter what he was.

Her voice was helpless, vulnerable and dry,

"No, Edward, you don't scare me."

Anger flashed in his eyes but before he could object the oblivious waitress arrived. Although Bella was also irritated by her presence she didn't want Edward to lose his temper. As she was setting the sodas down Bella quickly said,

"I'll have the mushroom ravioli but he's not hungry, thank you."

The waitress didn't want to talk to Bella. She turned amiably to Edward, a coy smile on her mouth,

"Sure you don't want anything, honey? I can fix you up something nice." Bella's hand was still touching Edward's sleeve, and she quickly pulsed his hand, forcing his attention on her. The cruel glare meant for the waitress went instead to Bella, who returned it with the stern look she'd picked up from Charlie.

Edward was learning to read Bella's face instead of relying on her mind. His eyes blinked back to light brown and with a composed face he turned back to the waitress. The entire exchange took half a moment.

"I would appreciate it," he said emphatically, "if you listened to my girlfriend for our order." The waitress was as stunned as Bella to hear the word "girlfriend" applied to something so fat and disheveled. Bella hadn't dressed particularly well for the shopping trip, and her face was unattractively pale. She gave a forced smile and left to get their order.

Edward had calmed down considerably, the anger seemingly dissipated. He slowly removed his hand from Bella's. His cold skin was almost familiar, and when he withdrew it from her touch, ice entered her heart. _He hadn't meant it_, she realized. Of course she wasn't really his girlfriend. She was Bella Swan. She swallowed half her soda without thinking.

"I'm sorry to take the liberty, Bella. But she would only leave us alone if I set up our relationship that way; it was the easier way out. I admit it was cowardly."

"Oh." Was all Bella could muster. Edward had been relying on thoughts for so long that he couldn't understand Bella's face. Was the shock settling in? Was it something he had said? Why couldn't he read her?

He hadn't forgotten their conversation though, and he picked up where they had left off.

"You should be afraid of me, Bella. It is healthy and correct to fear monsters. It would have saved you in that parking lot, for example." His voice was concerned, but controlled.

"But you saved me." She said. Before he could object she added, "What if this particular monster," she slowly formed the words, "is my best friend? What if I understand how lonely he is? What if I care for him, despite whatever he is?" She let the words fall heavily in front of him where he was forced to examine them. Edward withdrew his eyes from hers, unwilling to believe in unconditional love. He wanted it so badly, but he knew he did not deserve the clemency.

"You cannot know what I am," he said.

Even after their fight at school, even after her accusations, he refused to believe she could know. _She could mean one of any secrets_, Edward told himself. With Bella he could lie to himself more easily.

Her voice was wet with emotion, full and throaty as she held back the welling tears. In the past hour she had been nearly mugged, if not worse, and now she was not only trying to elicit a confession of vampirism from her only friend, but she was on the verge of confessing her own love for him. The emotion pressed against her organs, and she felt choked, fiery and raw.

"I've noticed things about you, Edward," she began in a quavering voice, "You don't eat or drink. You're always cold, unnaturally pale. Your family sticks closely together.

"I know you are inhumanly fast, inhumanly strong," she had to keep Jake's story a secret. "You call yourself a monster," she continued, "You are supernatural. I think I know exactly what kind of creature you are, but I want you to tell me. I want you to trust me with your secret."

"This is not about trust, Bella. I do trust you," Edward's voice was pained, "I am afraid for you. You will be in danger if you know what we are, if you know what I am."

"It's too late Edward," she said softly.

"Don't say that!" He said in a sharp voice, "Never say that!"

He shook his head, not wanting to believe her but she continued helplessly.

"Edward, maybe I already am in danger. You cannot protect me with ignorance. If you tell me the truth, I can help to protect me. We can work together. You have to tell me the truth."

"If I were stronger," he said softly, voicing a thought that haunted him daily, "I would have broken your heart long ago."

Bella shook her head, the tears dropping to the tablecloth,

"No." She said firmly though her voice shook, "No. That would be weakness, hurting yourself like that. You deserve happiness. You cannot protect me by hurting me. Please," the words felt clumsy on her lips, shaking with preternatural power as she uttered them, "I love you."

The silence stretched out and Bella saw Edward was not breathing; was not looking at her. She felt regret pumping into and breaking her heart—she had been too honest, too forceful. Bella Swan, usually so careful and thoughtful, had been reckless.

His whisper drifted lightly across the table, reluctant to come from his lips,

"You cannot love a vampire."

Bella choked back a happy sob, wiping her tears away and smiling. She reached a wet hand out to touch Edward's cheek, bring his face up to look at her when she said these next words. The touch woke him from his stupor, he looked up, eyes locked onto her own.

"Watch me." She said.

* * *

><p>They continued dinner in silence, Edward watching as he grasped the reality of Bella. She was tantalizing and unreal. She knew who and what he was, and she loved him despite all of it. He couldn't be sure how real her love was, but hearing it vocalized only actualized his own feelings for her. <em>Feelings<em>, he laughed to himself, _a frozen monster with feelings._ She had been the first, after Carlisle, to break through his seclusion. She brought him joy in a grey world. He watched shadows play against the white of her throat as she sipped her soda and swallowed her pasta.

Bella gave in to hunger, hunger she had not been aware of. The night was falling on her now, and she felt exhausted. She hadn't been entirely sure what those men in the alley wanted to do, but Edward seemed to have had a pretty good idea and Bella had a decent imagination. She began to realize what danger she had been in, and her gratefulness to Edward only increased. Her reverence for life expressed itself in two primal reactions: the need for food, and the need for sleep.

A secondary piece of Bella recognized that Edward had volunteered the sacred information. His greatest secret, one she had discovered on her own, was now aired. He had let her in. He would stop trying to push her away now.

"If I tell you what I think I know," she asked after swallowing her last mouthful of succulent mushroom, "will you fill in the rest?"

Edward took his time thinking before answering.

"Perhaps," he said, adding to himself, _After all, if I am going to go to hell, I might as well do a thorough job. _"But please," he amended, "not tonight." He shook his head and gave a sigh, another human affectation. He found he was developing more of those around Bella. "I don't think I can take any more." He said softly.

She had found a weakness in him and gotten her fingers inside it, wriggling and prying, working things loose. He didn't know he was still capable of these sensations.

The two of them had enjoyed sharing the quiet together. Despite all that remained to be said, neither of them minded the respite. There was something intensely intimate about being able to sit in complete silence with another person and still feel warm and connected. Bella knew she needed to ask more questions. But the warm meal and the complete safety she felt with Edward was overwhelming. As soon as she was in the warm familiarity of the Volvo she fell asleep.

"Bella," he said softly, his voice dry, "we're here." He had pulled into the Swan's driveway. It had taken him a full minute before he got up the courage to wake her. Bella stirred and then jolted, surprised she had let herself fall asleep.

"What time is it?" she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

"Eight," he said, watching her gestures of sleep. She rubbed at her eyes and her speech slurred a little, she had been on the verge of drooling. To Edward, who hadn't slept in decades, this was achingly exotic. He had watched her breathing, knowing that the movement was not an affectation, that it was tied directly to her livelihood. Her autonomic nervous system was always working to keep her alive. And so was Edward, in his backhanded way.

"How did you get here so fast? You must have been going, like, one-twenty." Her voice was raspy, croaking. The air of the Volvo was so dry and his sweet, light cologne tickled her soft palate. She'd never been in a car with Edward for this long, and she'd been asleep the whole time! _Damn_, she thought.

"One-hundred-_thirty_ miles per hour," he corrected in his quiet, warm voice. Bella's eyes widened in horror and Edward laughed to himself. Apparently reckless driving was more terrifying to her than blood-sucking.

"Edward!" Her voice cracked and she swallowed.

"Edward," she tried again in a quieter voice, "you could have gotten us killed. It's still early, why did you drive so fast?"

"That is how I always drive," he shrugged, feeling casual and boyish with Bella.

"I'm not superhuman, you know. You could have hurt me."

"Nonsense. I am a very safe driver, safer than any human. I just prefer to drive fast is all."

"But—" Bella began to protest, a question wrinkling her forehead.

"No more questions tonight," Edward reminded, "tomorrow, I'll explain. But for tonight, sleep."

"I don't know if I can sleep tonight," Bella said agitatedly. Edward had gotten her heart racing and she felt alert from another rush of adrenaline. It wasn't just his driving; she remembered their conversation and she was nervous around him now that she had injected the concept of love into their relationship. Had he said he loved her, too? She couldn't remember, and that worried her. Then, as Edward leaned towards her across the seat, Bella froze. His mouth came near her own.

"Sleep well, Bella." He breathed the words, murmuring inches from her face. The spicy, warm smell of cloves that she had subconsciously noticed about Edward intensified, and Bella was speechless. It was his breath: ashy and divine. She heard a click and somehow Edward was outside her car door, opening it for her and offering his hand to help her out. She took it, needing the stability, and noted the casual touch he allowed her. Everything was changing.


	13. The First Day

**Part the fifth: Implications**

She woke up naturally the following morning, early enough for a leisurely breakfast. As she brewed coffee and stared out the kitchen window to their pebble driveway she let the previous evening's reality sink in. Edward is a vampire. I love Edward. I told him that I love him. He didn't say anything back, but surely it was implied. She sipped her coffee, trying to chase away her damaging self-talk.

She finished her breakfast and said goodbye to Charlie, hoping against hope that the magical Volvo would appear as she left the house. It did, and Bella felt a surge of confidence, as though she had willed it to appear. She let herself in this time, and as she slid onto the seat she said,

"Drive slowly." Edward complied, smiling, ready.

But her next question jolted him, "Have you been killing people? Charlie mentioned some unsolved murders outside Forks. It could be vampires." Edward was quiet, trying to formulate an answer but Bella was dogged,

"Edward, are you killing people?"

"I have killed people, yes." Bella caught his evasive answer.

"How long ago?" She scrutinized. She couldn't imagine Edward hunting people, and Dr. Cullen also seemed an improbable murderer. There was something odd about the Cullens, beyond their vampirism. And Jacob's story had called them "civilized".

Edward was reluctant to answer, and Bella could tell that it wasn't for the sensible reason. He was about to undermine his monstrosity again. Something about Edward still wanted to scare Bella, and he was always disappointed when he failed.

"Carlisle has taught us how to feed off animals," he confessed, "and I haven't broken down in a very long time. But Bella," he insisted urgently, "I am not harmless. I try to be, and I've succeeded thus far, but you are… a particular challenge."

"What do you mean?" Bella asked. But that question was too big for Edward, he couldn't tell her right before school, not in the Volvo. It had to be somewhere else. He shook his head,

"Please, please ask me that later." His voice was soft and she obliged. She told him about Jacob and her studies over the weekend. At one point Edward shook his head, "The whelp broke the treaty," he said.

"Did he? By telling me? But he didn't know what he was doing," Bella said, feeling defensive for Jacob.

"It's no matter. What were you saying?" As he parked the Volvo they heard first bell ring. They were very late. She decided to ask him about his food source at lunch, an appropriate venue. She held up small conversation on the way in to school, asking easier questions: Did he ever sleep? No. Not even in a coffin? He smiled at this.

"Myth." He responded warmly.

"Why are you so perceptive with everyone but me?" She asked. Edward paused, thinking. Bella made a guess, "Is it some kind of telepathy?" He sighed, it would be difficult hiding things from her.

"Yes," he said, "but you are an exception. And your father's thoughts are amorphous, not clear like others. It must be some genetic quirk."

"What about sunlight? You are out in the daytime."

"There _is_ something tricky about sunlight," he agreed, smiling at how easily she had swallowed his confession of telepathy, "but it isn't what you think. That's why we chose this place." His smile turned into a boyish grin. "Always cloudy in Forks." They were both forcing lightness into the weirdness of their relationship, but she trusted him and hoped he reciprocated that trust.

As they approached homeroom Edward cut in front of her to open the door. Then, he put his arm possessively over her shoulder, and pulled her in close as they entered homeroom. He quickly muttered,

"Let them see." But Bella couldn't hide her own shock. The whole class turned to stare at the late-comers and Bella saw her own shock reflected on their faces. Edward pulled away slowly, letting his hand find Bella's and give it a parting squeeze. He winked and sat down in the C's. Bella eventually found herself at her assigned desk, unsure how she had managed to get there without any legs. Edward's gesture and expression had made it clear that they were now to be considered a couple.

"Mister Cullen, Miss Swan, do you have a permission slip for your tardiness?" The teacher asked, struggling to recover from the social upheaval. Edward responded, which was kind because Bella had left her voice back at the door with her legs.

"I'm sorry, it was I who made Bella late. The fault was not her own." _Oh, Edward you are so weird_, she thought to herself with a fazed smile.

Luckily the teacher, like most others, had a soft spot for Edward. She was further enamored that he would patronize the fat girl with his affections, so she let the matter drop. But the rapid whisper of loose lips became unbearable to Bella. As she reassembled herself she found that only shame and hot anger held her together. They were laughing at her. All the confidence and bravada she put forth for Edward evaporated, and she tried to return to nonexistence, but high school wouldn't let her.

People who hadn't blinked an eye when she was nearly crushed by Tyler's stupid antics were now lining up in the hallways to find out, was _she_ dating Edward Cullen? The name always rang with breathless adoration and fear. Bella didn't even know the answer. Was that the right word? _Dating? _She just excused herself and tried to shove her way to class, which was made easier by her bulk and ire. She managed to avoid Edward between homeroom and first period, but he was waiting for her in the hallway when class ended.

"They had to know," he said firmly.

"You could have asked my opinion first," Bella whispered with a hiss.

"Are you ashamed of me?" he asked her, his eyes locked on hers. Bella threw her hands in the air, dropping a book in exasperation. Before she could even notice, Edward had already picked it up and was holding it out to her, his eyebrows still furrowed. Whenever he did that, his eyes deepened and he looked more beautiful, fiery.

"Edward, look at me!" Bella was keeping her voice low, sure that others were listening. Edward appraised Bella: She was a churning, sweating, messy amalgam of cellular communities and microbial ecosystems. He sighed appreciatively,

"Gorgeous."

Bella's mouth actually fell open. Edward took her by the crook of her arm,

"C'mon, you'll be late to class." He said amiably. She shook herself free, walking beside him and still arguing.

"I'm tall and fat and ugly, and everyone seems to know it except you, Edward! And you are so freaking good-looking that it only emphasizes how ugly I am. That's what they're all thinking right now!" Then she remembered he could read minds,

"You can hear them, can't you? Why do you act like you don't know?"

"Because it doesn't matter," he said sharply. "Bella, I don't know who told you that you are ugly but they were dead wrong. And if I find them I'll rip their arms off," he added nonchalantly.

"Their thoughts don't matter," he continued waving away his honest intentions towards maiming Bella's slanderers, "Do you love _them_?" he asked, pulling Bella in front of him.

"No," she said softly, the flame in her cheeks shooting straight down her body.

"Do you love me?" he asked softer. _I can't believe Edward Cullen is asking me this,_ Bella briefly thought before smiling and responding,

"Yes," she felt goofy and giddy, a sensation that hadn't had time to register in the rush of the past twenty-four hours.

"Then my opinion trumps theirs, doesn't it? And I say that you are gorgeous." Then he brushed his fingers along the side of her face and nodded towards the classroom, indicating that she shouldn't be late. This time, when she sat down to the snarky whispers around her, Bella was able to shrug most of them off. Her cheek still tingled where he had touched it.

* * *

><p>At Biology Bella sat blushingly beside Edward. She had thought of more questions to ask him and hoped they would have an opportunity to whisper in class. But then the teacher wheeled in the AV unit.<p>

"Movies!" he shouted triumphantly. No chance for talking. Bella was all ready for a good sulk when the lights dimmed and she realized just how close Edward was to her. His hands were stretched on the table in front of him, casually, Edward turned his palm up and Bella found her fingers tentatively moving towards the gesture.

She touched the inside of his palm and watched as his eyes closed, like a cat. He looked tensed, his jaw clenching, but she could tell that he welcomed her touch. She traced the lines of his hand, marveling at how cool the skin was. His skin was dry and her fingers brushed effortlessly in a tantalizing contact of electricity. She felt the tendons in his wrist, the pads of his hand where there were no calluses, the delicate web of skin connecting his thumb to hand.

Halfway through the movie Bella mirrored her own hand over Edward's, letting the tips of each finger touch the tips of his own. Then she slipped the fingers past his, interlacing them and eventually letting the flat of her hand press against his own. He let his thumb stroke the soft skin on the back of her hand.

Then, he was tracing her tendons, her veins. His fingers were exploring the mechanics of her long, overgrown fingers. The teacher paused the movie suddenly and Bella thought they had been caught—but caught doing what?

"And we'll see the rest tomorrow!" he chirped, turning the lights on to groans from bleary students.

"Well," Edward smiled, pulling his hand away from Bella's, "that was interesting." There was a violence coiled inside Edward, and when he had touched her veins he had imagined the blood just under the surface, so close he could feel the pulse. But something else had enjoyed her proximity, the part of him that didn't want to kill her, but instead fought to keep her alive. He found that part of him growing stronger daily.

Bella's heart was flopping around stupidly and she choked down the clichéd sensations of butterflies clogging her esophagus. She nodded and followed him out of class. He lead her to her own locker, leaning against an adjacent one so as to watch her as she looked for her lunch.

"Will you luncheon with me today?" He asked.

"I'm nervous. Will your family like me?"

"I requested that we eat alone for today," Edward said. She had noticed his ability to claim a clear table in a crowded lunchroom. She decided to ask Edward about it, was it just his popularity that kept others at bay?

"Humans are naturally repelled by us. They are intrigued and attracted on one level, but skittish and fearful. When we invite them, they always say 'yes,' but you, Bella, you've been different on those counts. You refuse to fear me," He looked at her sternly and she couldn't help but smile, which brought a similar expression to his face.

"When I first offered you a ride home you said 'no,' which I still don't fully understand. Then, when I told you to stay away you actively pursued me!"

"Well tomorrow is your day for questions, how's that? Until then, I am the interrogator." Bella took a big bite of her sandwich and swallowed before asking the next question.

"Tell me about the animals." This brought a sly and wicked smile to Edward's lips. It curled back to reveal his milk-bone teeth.

"It's a very long story and it starts with Carlisle, but I'll give you the short version. You've notice that we are absent on days with good weather?"

"Is that when you hunt? It's not hunting season, Edward," she chastised, munching on turkey and lettuce, "you could get caught for poaching. Plus there are bears to watch out for." Edward let his smile grow devilish until Bella's hand flew to her mouth, incredulous.

"You hunt _bears_?" she asked.

"Yes. And we avoid poaching laws by not using traditional weapons." Bella closed her eyes, shaking her head and holding back laughter.

"Wait, wait," she giggled, "You hunt bears with your _hands_? What, do you just punch them?" She had a pretty clear image of that looping in her head, and it was utterly ridiculous. Sometimes it was hard to take Edward seriously.

"Emmett prefers the bears, really," Edward shrugged, "especially when they come out of hibernation. Then they are ornery and put up a better fight. I prefer mountain lions," Edward added helpfully. Bella just laughed at this incredible piece of information.

"God, I'd love to see that," she mused to herself.

"You can't." Edward snapped, breaking her amusement. In a more apologetic voice he said, "You can never be around when I'm like that."

The conversation felt sour. She tried another angle,

"Are you all mind-readers?"

"No, just me. Some of our kind are exceptional: me, Alice and Jasper in our family, but it is rare. It can also be difficult to determine _exceptional_ along the supernatural spectrum. Carlisle, for example, can endure the temptations of blood, but that could also be his personality." Bella remembered that Carlisle was a doctor _and_ a vampire. The combination had not appeared to her earlier.

"What can Alice and Jasper do?" She asked.

"Alice sees the future, but in a broken and subjective way. It's not always very helpful. Jasper has a good talent. He can feel and affect emotions, calming people or inciting riot. I'm sometimes jealous, I'll admit," He was plunging headlong into this experiment with Bella. He was giving her everything.

"Why don't you ever eat our food? Your starvation is conspicuous," she joked.

"Because it is disgusting, next question." Edward waved his hand derisively at her sandwich.

"It's not disgusting! So you're all snobs?"

"Bella, would you ever eat _dirt_ just to fit in?" Bella failed at hiding her reaction.

"No!" He laughed, "You have!"

"I was like seven," she said. She had wanted a boy to like her. Then she remembered she was supposed to be asking the questions.

"Are you really… adopted?" Bella wasn't sure how vampire parentage and pedigree happened.

"Yes, and I have a wide assortment of forged documents to prove it." It was a sort of joke but Bella didn't seem to catch it so Edward continued, "Carlisle collected us along the way: groups of vampires with a conscious. We have all agreed not to kill humans. Jasper is the newest, which is why he struggles the most."

The bell rang and they agreed to continue Bella's questions later. She was surprisingly glad for the break. She knew she had questions, but the influx of information was making her confused. After final bell, she waited for Edward to find her.

"How do you always know where I am if you can't read my mind?" She asked. Edward didn't really want to answer this question yet.

"Bella, this school has only a few hundred people in it. That's not exactly a talent. How about I play you some music? You look like you've had a long day."

Bella was a naturally curious person but she couldn't resist the sort of special intimacy Edward promised when he shared songs with her. She agreed, letting him unwrap the song for her, closing her eyes. It was ragtime, but Edward loved it because you could hear also hear grief and sorrow. The music shifted from bright bubbles to stumbling discord, and Bella felt an innate sympathy for the confused rhythm.

* * *

><p>They were sitting in the gravel driveway, letting the song finish, and Bella felt her mind growing increasingly curious. Why was he so keen on her? How could she reconcile the Edward she felt she knew with all these stories of vampires? Did Carlisle just turn people in order to develop a "family"? Why was Edward so damned self-deprecating and hateful when he had saved her life <em>twice<em>?

But Charlie, like an angel of discord, threatened their privacy. With Billy and Jacob Black not far behind. Edward felt them coming—heard their thoughts, Bella supposed—a few minutes before their bubble would be burst.

"Your father is coming," Edward warned, "and he's bringing Quileutes." He said the last word with a tinge of condescension. It had to be Billy Black, Charlie's best friend. Bella supposed Edward was angry with the Quileute as much as they were with the Cullens. It seemed like a classic vendetta, played out in a working-class small town. The epic tragedy felt wrong in a setting like Forks and the Quileute seemed like an unlikely enemy. Especially Billy Black, who was confined to a wheelchair. Jacob was only fifteen. Regardless of history, how could Edward loathe either of them?

"You could stay," Bella said, before she knew what she was thinking.

"No," Edward said firmly, "I really cannot. We should wait a little bit before we tell your father, and much longer before the Blacks or any other Quileute need to know." He gave a grim smile, "You are in way over your head, Bella Swan." He warned.

"I can keep up," she said softly, touching the cuff of his jacket. Sometimes Bella felt comfortable touching Edward's skin, but he seemed too on edge and she didn't want to risk shocking him. In some ways, Edward was very fragile.

They let the electricity of their proximity buzz lightly between them. Desire, restraint, and teenage curiosity. They were both so curious about the other, but there was still such a chasm to overcome. It made Bella tingle. It made Edward anxious.

"You should go now," he said gently.

"One last question." Bella said.

"They'll be here in a few minutes," Edward protested.

"Why is it that you always try to say goodbye to me? You always try to… push me away." Bella felt fear well up as she waited for him to respond. It took all of her courage to say these sorts of things to Edward, but she nevertheless felt compelled to be honest with him.

Edward offered up his hand. Bella brought her palm to his, lining her fingertips up to his own.

"Because," Edward answered, "my kind kills your kind. We don't usually make good relationships."

Edward heard Bella's heartbeat and the image of her blood pumping, gushing through her system, made him uncomfortable. He broke contact but Bella was waiting for him to say something more.

"I cannot help myself, Bella. I want you in a way that is different and new. Not as prey but as companion."

"Then stop pushing me away." Bella touched Edward's face, warming his cheek. She had one more question, and she hadn't known if she would be brave enough to ask it. With her fingers tracing his cheek, she found that strength,

"Do you…?" she stammered, "Do you… love me?" Her voice quavered and broke on the sentence, but she forced herself to keep eye contact with this special boy.

The answer was immediate,

"Yes," he said, "too, too much." He took her hand from his face, it was a gentle motion but Bella knew it meant she had to leave. She got out of the car, but before she could walk to the house Edward called out,

"And Bella..!" She whipped around to see a James Dean smile as Edward put on sunglasses, "Tomorrow it's my turn to be the interrogator!"

"That's not fair!" Bella shouted back, but he was already pealing out of the driveway. Charlie would frown at the tire marks later. Bella laughed to herself, dizzy from Edward, high on her first real crush, nervous that it might be more. Sure that it was more.

Before she could even get her jacket off she heard Charlie pulling into the driveway. When she came to the door to greet him he yelled out,

"Did that Cullen boy leave these marks?" He was disapproving. He liked the doctor plenty, but he was uneasy with Edward. Only Renee kept him civil, and just barely. Bella didn't answer his question, but Charlie didn't press it.

"Billy Black is coming over to watch the game. I've got some boards in the garage to get his chair up these steps, can you get them?" He was trying to repair the track damage with his boots. In an overly casual voice he added,

"Jacob is coming, too." Bella could hear Charlie's intentions in his voice. Jacob was way too young for Bella, not to mention he probably just saw her as an awkward older sister, nothing more. Bella was in the garage, hauling out two heavy planks of wood, cumbersome because of their length. Everyone, even her father, thought she was so strong just because she was big. She huffed from the strain. _Well, I'm not strong,_ She thought to herself, her own body making the exercise harder.

Charlie helped her lay the boards on the steep steps. It wouldn't make it easy getting Billy up the stairs, but at least it wouldn't jostle him as much. Bella was about to head back into the house but Charlie seemed to want to say something.

"Bella, about that party on the beach," he said, "I'm real proud of you for not… doing anything dumb. With those other kids."

"Thanks, Dad, but it wasn't just for you."

"Yeah, I know that…" his voice trailed off and Bella could see pride in his features. She had a horrifying premonition that he might try and ruffle her hair. Thankfully, Billy's truck pulled up with Jacob driving before Charlie could make an awkward gesture of affection.

Jacob popped out of the truck, getting the wheelchair from the cab and yelling greetings to Bella and Charlie. Billy shot an arm out the window holding a greasy brown paper bag, triumphant. The bag caught Charlie's eye and Bella knew he wouldn't bother her about boys for awhile so long as Harry Clearwater's fish fry was on his mind.

Bella let herself take in the sight of Billy without legs. He seemed so much smaller, as though he had lost more than just appendages. But as soon as he smiled she saw his familiar strength and those crinkling eyes.

"Hey, Bella!" Jacob said in a friendly voice, breaking up her thoughts. Charlie insisted on bringing Billy up the steps himself, the two of them being old friends and Billy not minding Charlie's razzing. Jacob followed Bella to the kitchen, where she put the fish fry on the counter and pulled out beers for the adults. She began to busy herself more than usual, needing something to do with her hands.

"How's things, Jake?" She asked. He talked briefly about some work he was doing on a car that he wanted to fix up by his birthday. A Volkswagen Rabbit, he said with his eyes shining. Jake was too young for his license, but Charlie looked the other way when he was driving Billy around.

He offered to fry the fish himself.

"I saw a Volvo S60R leaving here as we drove up," he said with affected disinterest, "Expensive stuff for the area. And I didn't recognize the driver."

"Oh," Bella wasn't sure how she should deliver the news to Jacob, knowing that he didn't buy into the clan-warfare stories. She was getting some sodas for her and Jacob as he heated up the iron skillet. He waved to her from the stove, saying he preferred water.

"That was Edward Cullen," she said, putting his soda back, "he's my Biology partner." She was glad neither of them were making eye contact, he couldn't catch her half lie. Jacob gave a relieved laugh that surprised Bella.

"That makes sense now. Dad was acting really weird about it. He's still superstitious," Jacob turned to her with a mock frown of disapproval and Bella laughed. They chatted easily after that. Eventually, reluctantly, Bella admitted she had homework to do, but Jacob seemed interested in seeing what she had to work on. He wanted to compare it to what he was learning at the Tribal School. Explaining her work to Jacob actually helped Bella understand the problems for her various classes, and Jake was genuinely interested.

"We should do a study group or something," Bella heard herself saying, "I mean, I know we are different years, but—"

"That would be cool." Jacob agreed, "You can come up to the rez sometime." Bella smiled and then some sadness crept into her face. She had more fun doing homework with Jacob than anything she'd ever done with the misfits.

"What is it?" Jacob asked.

"I'm not having much luck making friends at school," Bella confessed.

"You don't need those pale-faces. I can introduce you to some of the guys, they'd like to meet you." He added. Bella was surprised at this.

"Really?"

"Offer's open. You can just show up whenever."

The game finally wound down and Billy wheeled into the kitchen to call on Jacob to get the heat started in the car.

"See if you can find those pictures of your sisters, I think they're in the glove compartment," Billy called as Jacob left.

Bella suddenly felt uneasy alone with Billy in the kitchen. Charlie must have still been in the living room, watching the post-game commentary.

"You're spending time with one of the Cullen boys, I see."

"He's my lab partner," Bella said defensively. Then, angry that she should have to defend herself she added, "And my friend."

"You probably don't know this, but the Cullen's aren't much liked on the reservation." He added, putting weight into his voice. His eyes and the set of his jaw spoke more than his words. He had natural authority. He wasn't small at all. It was difficult for Bella to find the courage to fight him.

"Actually, I did know that. I know some of you don't even go to the hospital anymore because of the Cullens."

"We have our reasons," he said calmly.

"I'm aware of them." Bella replied evenly, letting her tone carry forth the information Billy was looking for. He was surprised, but kept his face even. They were stuck there, a classic stand-off. Jacob showed up then and Bella flashed into a smile, authenticated from relief. She'd had been tested and she passed. Being with Edward meant she would have to be stronger, braver. She would have to fight for Edward.


	14. A New Absence

It was late enough that Bella could conceivably go to bed. Her head and heart were racing, and she knew she would never get to sleep naturally. Bella didn't want to sort through the confusion in her head, she was tired and had a long day ahead of her. A day where Edward wouldn't let her ask any of the questions she was already forming. In an effort to cut them off at the pass, Bella performed a little trick she used before final exams. She took nighttime cold medicine and a hot bath, gladly enduring something she used to consider tedious. By the time she had worn down the blade on her razor, lather-rinse-repeated, and counted to two hundred while brushing her teeth, she felt real drowsiness settling in. She pulled on a sweatshirt, the hood covering her wet hair, and crawled into bed.

Sleeping was easy and she woke up more refreshed than usual. Charlie was still asleep, working off the beer and lard. Bella participated in another aspect of her new routine since Edward started driving her to school: oatmeal and black coffee. No more sugary cereals or skipped breakfasts for her. Her lunches had gone from random leftovers to prepared sandwiches with whatever fruit or vegetable she could manage.

Living with Renee, they had only ever eaten take-out and restaurant food. As soon as Bella moved to Forks and started eating home-cooked meals she felt herself lose a little weight. Not very much, but it was somewhat heartening to not be gaining weight for once. She also found she enjoyed cooking. She'd been doing pretty well for a few weeks now.

As she poured milk over her oatmeal Edward's Volvo drove up. Early. This was unusual.

Bella took her bowl out to the porch. Edward got out of the car grinning rakishly. He stepped forward to the porch, stopping with a bounce in his step and in a hushed whisper said,

"So what do you eat for breakfast?"

"Oh my God, Edward. Are you here early to start your interrogations?" His grin grew wider and the youth of his years showed itself against his strong features. Bella realized she had only ever seen his playful side when he was around his family. From a distance she had watched him shove and be shoved, throw snowballs, and share secret smiles. Now he was on her porch, the cat with the canary, completely relaxed. She was honored.

"Is that what you normally eat? What do you drink?" He asked with extreme curiosity.

"Um… do you want to come in so I can finish breakfast?" Bella asked awkwardly. Edward was lingering by the bottom step of the porch and it was cold out. Plus, she'd left her coffee inside.

"Are you inviting me inside?" He asked.

"What? Is that, like, a vampire thing? That I need to invite you inside?"

Edward mounted the steps two at a time, soundless and youthful, laughing quietly,

"No, it's a manners thing. Archaic, I know."

Edward sat at the kitchen table. His posture was impeccable, Bella noted. He kept an ear out for Charlie and his questions started fast. Do you always eat oatmeal? How do you take your coffee? Do you always eat breakfast? How did you prepare the oats?

Bella answered dutifully, trying to get the last of her breakfast in while it was still warm. They kept their voices low and Edward was aware of the time so they wouldn't be late.

"When did you start drinking coffee?" He asked as she rinsed her bowl.

"I was twelve. I wanted to stop growing." She responded. She meant it to come out light and laughing, but it felt heavy. Thankfully, Edward soldiered on with more questions.

"What's your favorite breakfast?"

Bella laughed at how interested he was in food, pushing away the sad reminder that he could no longer taste human food. As he escorted her out the door, opening the Volvo for her, he asked new questions. When he asked, What is the CD in your stereo right now? Her response came haltingly. It had been awhile since she'd studied with music in her room. Finally she remembered and Edward responded theatrically.

"Open the glovebox!" He commanded with a conspiratorial smile. Bella obeyed and pulled out a CD organizer the size of an old Bible. "Wow." She said.

"This one is alphabetical by artist. If you look, I've got that exact CD!" he sounded so happy at the coincidence. But he owned so many CDs that it was only statistically probable that Bella's collection would overlap with his own.

As the day wore on, Edward's rapid-fire questions started to grate on Bella, who felt more and more resentful that she couldn't ask him questions in return. Biology would be a relief as they were showing another movie and would have to keep quiet. If Edward tried to write her questions on paper, she vowed to tear them up. They went through the classroom doors together, sitting at the back. Before the class could start Edward got out one more question.

"What is your favorite gem stone?" This is ludicrous, Bella thought to herself.

"Topaz," she answered irritated, "or maybe onyx."

"Which one?" He pressed.

"Do I have to choose?"

"Yes." He said with that dashing smile from another era. Bella gave him a long stare and then smiled, "Topaz today. Onyx when you get angry." _My eyes?_ Edward thought, oddly flattered. He thought he'd grown tired of compliments and commentary on his celestial beauty, but when Bella said it, he felt warmth and appreciation. It also shut him up.

The lights went out and Bella saw Edward's hand, pale against the black of the lab table. She gently turned it palm-up, letting her fingers trace from the nexus of lines inside his palm down through the veins in his wrist to the gentle depression in the crook of his arm. It was all so cold, so stony, and yet absolutely singing with life. She was fascinated by his skin. She turned his arm over and let her nails comb through the copper hair on his forearm.

Edward shivered pleasantly and gently capped her hand with his own, stopping her. It was his turn.

At the back of the class they went undiscovered. He found all the soft places along her wrist and arm where her blood pumped rhythmically. He pressed his finger lightly against the freckles and moles of her skin, something novel and sweet to him. Through Carlisle's memory, Edward had seen himself human. He used to have moles and blemishes, and he regretted losing them to his _tabula rasa_. He found light scars from chicken pox or scratches. He ran his fingertips over the sharp ovals of her nails.

The lights turned on and Bella sighed in both a release of pleasure and in disappointment that she would lose Edward's touch.

"Is this a writing callus?" he asked, tracing a bump on the ring finger of her right hand. Bella nodded.

"What are you writing? Homework?" Finally, a real question! They were up and on their way to lunch.

"My diary, actually," Bella said shyly. She hoped Edward would ask more but then he said,

"What's your favorite flower?" and something inside Bella snapped.

"My favorite flower?" Irrational anger was boiling up now and she couldn't stop it.

"Edward! Does that really matter?" He was taken aback by her anger.

"Well, it does if I ever wanted to buy you a present," he said, but his voice was unsure, confused by her reaction. She always caught him off guard. She was shaking her head in exasperation and disappointment, and he could see how hard she was fighting back tears. Something in Bella was coming out against her will.

"Edward," she sighed tragically, "I thought you were supposed to be interested in who I am."

Edward pulled her into an empty classroom, concerned. The little he knew of Bella classified her current reaction as "erratic".

"Bella, I am interested in you. In every little detail." He thought this would be romantic, but she just sat heavily on a desk and sank her head into her hands. He hated that he couldn't read her mind.

"You haven't asked about me, though. None of my stories. None of my opinions. None of the things that make me _me_. Just… pointless factoids. Am I just a curiosity to you? Your first human?"

Edward was next to her, his hand heavy on her shoulder, his eyes were running across her face, taking in her body language. He used to be able to read people, back when he was mortal. He had to remember now.

"I am curious about your humanness," he began, "It is one of my favorite parts about you, Bella. But it isn't the only part." He scrutinized her features and when she looked him in the eyes his voice was careful,

"I love you. You know that, don't you?" Bella hesitated and Edward caught the pause,

"What is this about?" His old skills were coming back gradually with Bella, along with other long-lost human characteristics.

"I guess I just have a hard time believing this is real," she sighed, the tears and anger ebbing, "Not even the supernatural stuff, but…. Look at you. What am I to you?"

"So much more than you could know," he murmured softly. Then, "Bella, perhaps this weekend is a better time to get into some of the darker aspects of our relationship. Maybe we can relax things a little until then, pretend to be normal for a few days?" That sounded really nice to Bella, and she nodded, smiling.

His stone hands wiped her face, and then, curiously, he tasted a finger that had brushed a tear. Bella shoved him playfully, laughing as she shook away the last bits of sadness.

"You are so weird, Edward."

"Would I be correct to presume that you don't have any plans this weekend?" Edward smiled.

"I don't have any plans this weekend," Bella stood up, smiling, too. She still didn't really understand why she'd been so upset, but Edward's suggestion that they take things easy encouraged her.

"I'm going to have to leave school early today. I won't be in tomorrow, either. But Saturday, I hoped I could take you somewhere special to me. And then maybe…" he swallowed, an affectation that made Bella smile, "maybe then we could iron out some of the harder parts of this. I'd appreciate it if you told Charlie that you'll be alone with me. It will help make me accountable."

"Where are you going?" Bella asked, ignoring his request. They were walking down the hallway now.

"If I'm going to spend more time with you, I need to hunt first so I'm not thirsty," he bit his lip—something she had unconsciously taught him. "Bella, promise me you'll tell Charlie."

"No," she said easily.

"Bella, you know that I am an insane monster." His voice was serious, holding back his anger. But Bella smiled in the face of his ferocity—Billy Black was scarier than this boy.

"I trust your actions more than your words, Edward. And so far, you have only proved yourself to be protective. I'm not going to use coercion to ensure my safety." He did not look pleased with this, and he wasn't ready to drop the argument, but he heard Alice coming.

"I'm going with Alice. She is… supportive of us." As he said this, a black-haired pixie girl bounded around the empty corner. Alice. Right on time.

"Bella!" She gushed, "It's so great to meet you! We're going to be great friends. Don't worry," she added, her voice breathless. Then, looking deeply into Bella's eyes she said with real sympathy, "I can help you with your clothes."

"What—?" Bella was a little astounded, but then the thin girl hugged her in a way that emptied Bella's lungs.

"Oops!" She chirped, letting go.

"Alice, this is Bella. Bella, my sister Alice." Edward said belatedly. Alice curtsied daintily, an effect belied by Bella's bruised rib.

"Alice," Edward continued, "can you go to Bella's house and bring her truck to school? You saw me change my mind." Alice nodded sweetly and tripped off down the hallway. Bella expected her to do a back handspring.

"Changed your mind?" Bella asked, still bewildered by the flash encounter.

"Just now, when I decided to take you on a date this weekend. Alice saw our future change and saw that you would need a ride home and I would need to go hunt."

It bothered Bella in a half-erotic half-disgusted way to hear him talk about hunting.

"If she can see the future, then do you eat me?" She wheedled playfully.

"Not this weekend," he said, "but I could change my mind." His menace was lost on Bella. Despite his strength and power, he was like a furious kitten when he tried to intimidate her.

"Wait…" she said slowly, "how is she going to get my truck?"

"Chalk it up to vampire powers," Edward said mysteriously, waggling a handsome eyebrow.

"Auto-theft is a vampire power?" Bella was walking the school grounds with Edward, enjoying their banter. She hadn't been able to feel relaxed and happy in school since she'd left Phoenix.

"There is much for you to learn," he said, "but we usually get what we want. And Alice is good with cars. She won't hurt your truck." He added.

"Nothing will," Bella sighed. Then, remembering that Edward was leaving her and wouldn't be in school tomorrow either she grew worried.

"Do you really have to go?" she asked. She had no friends at school, and the emptiness would be all the more apparent after the fullness he had given her. He nodded, stepping close to her and making her skin tingle in his presence.

"I only leave for your safety. I'll be on your doorstep bright and early Saturday morning, okay?" Bella nodded dumbly, unable to speak. He brought a hand to her face, gently pressing his cool palm against her cheek. She closed her eyes. Edward felt that special warmth which came from Bella's skin—a warmth unlike the prey he hunted or the heat of a stove. It was human heat, something he had not felt in years. She turned her head slightly, grazing her lips against the inside of his palm. For a moment, Edward imagined sliding his hand down to her throat, pulling her against him by the nape of the neck and—he wasn't exactly sure what came next, but he stopped the image anyway. He let his hand drop.

"Saturday." He reminded, then turned away.

"Wait!" Bella shouted. Edward turned, his face worried.

"Wherever we're going, I'm driving." She put on a smile.

"You're not driving my Volvo," he laughed protectively.

"I know that. We're taking the truck." And she turned and left without letting him respond.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day was hellish for Bella, and she knew Friday wouldn't be much better. Today was worse than she had anticipated. In the crass and creative way of high schoolers, Bella had become a linguistic term. Whenever one person would inform another that Bella Swan was dating Edward Cullen the response was always an objection: But Bella Swan is fat and ugly!<p>

The phrase bizarrely morphed into an acronym to make it past the teachers. "Are you hungry?" "Is BSFU?" What would Edward do when he heard this? Would he rip off their arms? Or would he deliver a speech in iambic pentameter?

She had already decided to eat lunch in her truck on Friday. She avoided talking to people whenever possible. Bella Swan: social curio. But it wasn't just the gossip and the stares that bothered her—she also felt something new. She felt, in a visceral way, the absence of Edward. Only her sore rib reminded her that she had really been in the hallway laughing and hugging his sister earlier that day. Laughing? At school? She made him laugh, and he made her smile; with Edward she was relaxed and happy. Life was easy with him, happiness came naturally and didn't have to be plotted out or forced. It was as though she had been struggling to draw and he had suggested she use the other hand—and it had worked.

She was relieved when the final bell rang and she could go home. At least in her house she could deal with missing Edward in private. Besides, she had lived seventeen years without him, and her life with him in Forks was constricted to the interactions in his car. Surely she could get through two more days without Edward.

As she entered the parking lot she was suddenly worried that maybe her truck wouldn't be there. Maybe she would have to walk home after all. But there it was, huge and rusty, where the Volvo had been just that morning. She found a few things on the front seat waiting for her: the keys, a scrap of paper, and a folded shirt.

The paper had Edward's script on it and read only "Be safe." The terseness of the note bothered Bella. Safe from what? She thought angrily. Edward seemed to think the whole world was out to get her, just because she bumped into things and dropped her books—and was nearly crushed by a van and attacked in Silverdale. _Okay_, she conceded,_ I will be safe, but those things were never my fault_. She picked up her keys and the dark green shirt. It was a button-down with silk trim in a pattern that mimicked a vest. The buttons were pretty brass with a delicate crest molded into them. There was even a ribbon of fabric in the back that she could tie to accentuate her waist. _What waist?_ She then thought, remembering her shape was convex. This must be from Alice; she had said something about clothes.

In her room she tried on the shirt. She was flushed with embarrassment, sure it wouldn't fit. Nothing ever fit Behemoth Bella. She hated it when people bought her clothe, because she would be forced to find out exactly how it didn't fit her. What would be the problem with this shirt, she wondered, would it be her mannish shoulders or her orangutan arms? Would it be the belly that sloshed around no matter how deeply she sucked in? Or would it be a new feature to disdain, maybe her torso was too long?

Yet when she started to button the shirt, she didn't feel the tell-tale tugs or hitches that usually indicated a bad fit. When it was finally on, she braced herself and looked in the mirror. Even if it fit, it couldn't fix her body.

She gasped.

Not only did it fit, but it looked good on her. The color was lovely against her usually sickly skin. The darkness made her hair look rich and brought out the depths of her eyes. And the tailoring was flattering to her difficult figure. She took the shirt off and looked for a tag but couldn't find anything. She hung it up carefully, knowing it would be best for Saturday, her "date" with Edward. She set aside her best pair of jeans (the pair that didn't yet have friction burns in the thighs) and sat staring at the outfit for a full ten minutes.

Something about being with Edward was making her prettier, and she didn't know how she felt about that. She was still extremely overweight. She hadn't told anyone, but her doctor in Phoenix warned her that she was on track for type II diabetes. She knew she should eat better, and something about being around Edward made her want to care about her diet more than the threat of diabetes had. She had noticed her hair and skin improving with her change in hygiene. Care. That was the difference. She felt the need to take care of herself now, a need that had been absent before. She eyed the shirt.

"I don't deserve this." Bella said softly to herself. Then she went downstairs and made dinner for her and Charlie. Despite her doubts, she added vegetables to the meal. She didn't deserve Edward, but she would still try to improve the meals around the Swan household. If not for her own sake, then also for Charlie's. He was healthy and thin, but it couldn't hurt to get more vegetables into the old bachelor.

Nevertheless Bella brought money to school the next day. She knew she would need it. Even though she packed her own lunch, she made sure to buy hot cocoa and a chocolate chip muffin from the cafeteria before retiring to her truck. The warmth and the sugar made her feel much better. They were old friends she had grown up with, familiar and welcoming. There had been jokes and snickers regarding Edward's absence from school today. Even though he was routinely absent from school, she could still hear people blaming it on Bella. And in a way, it was her fault this time.

All attempts at conversation always lead towards the inevitable "Why is Edward Cullen dating you?" It didn't help that Bella couldn't exactly answer this anyway. Only impotent anger rose up whenever this question, or any implication of it, was made. The cocoa was so hot it scalded her tongue, but the coat of chocolate soothed her frayed nerves.

Only three and a half more hours, she thought to herself, sighing. High school was miserable. It was made worse by the very real memory of classes and whole days where she had been happy. It was harder to ignore the misery when she knew that happiness was an actual option.

_I wonder if I could transfer to the reservation?_ Bella mused, _Then I could learn that fancy language._ She heard the lunch bell ring and popped the muffin wrapper in her mouth to chew on, spitting it out when she got into school again.

Her brain was driving her crazy. When she got home, she watched herself binge on whatever was in the house. The leftovers were cold and flavorless in her mouth, but she wasn't eating for pleasure. She attacked ingredients, eating peanut butter, jam or even honey straight. She washed everything down with milk and found herself still going strong.

She was angry with Edward, angry with herself, angry with Charlie. Edward's well-meant note now felt condescending. _Be safe_, she snorted, from what? Those kids at school? Herself?

Alice's careful gift became demeaning. Bella felt worthless and ugly. She shuddered to remember Edward touching her. Touching this body.

When Charlie came home Bella remembered that Edward had asked her to blackmail him into keeping her safe—into not draining her blood. Well he'd been doing well enough on his own so far, so Bella decided to ignore this request.

"Charlie, I'm spending tomorrow with friends. We're leaving early. I don't know when I'll get home." Then she whirled around to stomp up the stairs again but her father yelled,

"Hey! Wait just a minute. Where are you going? With who?"

She wanted to throw up. The combination of foods she had chosen was not sitting well.

"I have my cell phone and we're not even leaving Forks. I'm seventeen, I think I can hang out with friends on a Saturday?" Then she lumbered up the stairs before he could reply. She threw up in the toilet and took some cold medicine. She showered and carefully brushed and re-brushed her teeth. What are you doing, Bella Swan? She asked herself. You can't go to pieces if Edward's gone for a day.

She had to admit to herself that she had felt this way before Edward, and it would take more than a pep talk to fix her bad habits. It was a terrible cycle; she would hate her body and abuse it. Then as she steadily gained weight she'd hate herself even more. She'd kept up a cheery front when she was just a misfit, but choosing Edward meant leaving that group. They only asked her about sex and called Edward a chubby chaser. With the whole school watching her and her only friends absent, Bella would have to learn how to show grace under fire. But she wasn't feeling very graceful after throwing up spaghetti noodles.

* * *

><p>When she woke up before dawn she felt awful. Her head hurt and she hated herself for the binge and subsequently throwing up.<p>

_I'm so messed up,_ She thought to herself, shaking her head and quietly heading downstairs. She drank three glasses of water and put on the coffee pot.

Bella wrapped herself in a jacket and blanket, and took her cup of coffee to the porch to watch the sunrise. She needed a game-plan. Bella worked better when things made sense, and nothing had made any sense for the past few days. Today would be better. She would be with Edward, she would have a healthy breakfast, she would apologize to Charlie later. She would learn about Edward over time. The conversations would happen as they needed to, they had time. She didn't have to get initiated into the Cullen clan overnight, she could ease in.

And school… Well, she had been unhappy at school most of her life, but she'd been able to deal with it when she thought there was no better way. Now, with Edward—and even for a moment Alice, who had hugged her and given her a beautiful gift!—she saw herself as a happy, interesting person with friends. It was cruel to be offered that option and then have it snatched away. It was harder living in the cave when you knew there was an outside world.

It would be a beautiful day today, she noticed. It was apple-crisp and cold, the soggy fog had dried up with the arrival of sunlight. The crypt atmosphere was driven away momentarily, and the sunrise offered Bella a promise. She smiled, feeling the warmth of sun on her face. She had to remind herself that this was the same sun she felt in Phoenix, but it was difficult to reconcile the two very different atmospheres. She forgave herself for acting so badly the day before, and went back inside to have oats with yogurt and berries.

She looked up from her oatmeal at the sound of a soft knock on the kitchen window. Edward was on the porch. She hadn't heard his Volvo's crunch on the gravel.

"Did someone drop you off?" She asked in confusion. Edward smiled,

"Good morning to you, too." He evaded. Then he looked at her outfit. She was wearing Alice's shirt like he'd anticipated. Alice sure had a way with that sewing machine. He hummed appreciatively, careful not to wake Charlie, even though that man slept pretty hard for a cop.

"You look fantastic," he said. This had the wrong effect on Bella. She blushed furiously and knit her brows, changing the subject.

"Um, where are we going?" she said awkwardly.

"Somewhere that will need better shoes," he nodded to her sneakers. "Do you have hiking boots?"

"Hiking?" Bella's eyes bulged. Was he seriously the only person in Forks who didn't notice she was fat? _Serves me right_, she thought, _I brought it up first_. Still, she hadn't really expected him to take her up on the idea. Her idea of a hike was really just a walk with more trees.

"Don't worry," he said soothingly, "It's an easy hike. I recommend wool socks, too. Humans sweat a lot, especially their feet." Edward had been doing meticulous research on the internet. Sleep, sweat, food, all these had been forgotten until recently. He had to resist the urge to coddle her like an infant.

Edward leaned against a door frame, watching as she hooked the laces, tightening the fit.

"There is something undeniably sexy about a woman in boots." He smiled.

"Don't say that," she said softly. Edward made a mental note to himself, letting the subject drop and suggesting they head out soon. Charlie would be waking up, Edward could feel his dreams ending. Then he remembered,

"You are going to need to pack lunch. And water," he said these things in a rehearsed voice. He paused, trying to remember anything else. "Lots of water," he emphasized, then with a flash of recollection, "And…" he didn't know how to phrase the next part, "Are you comfortable with…" he raised his hands helplessly, _"Utilizing_ the outdoors?" Bella caught his meaning.

"Jeeze, Edward, I'm not a baby. And yes, I've been camping before. I think I'll be all right." But she packed tissues into a small knapsack along with some fruit, cheese, nuts and a big water bottle. They left the house silently and Bella put her truck into neutral to roll it down the driveway.

"Madame, if you would allow me," Edward offered, getting out of the cab. She heard his voice come from behind the truck, "Just steer!" and suddenly it was like the truck's engine was on. She was a mile from the house, steering silently down the road, when suddenly Edward latched onto the passenger door.

"You can start the engine now!" He said happily, letting himself in while the truck was moving. He was utterly transformed from the sulky, menacing figure she'd first met. She couldn't help but let his brightness infect her mood.

"Oh my God, Edward! You were pushing this truck! And then you jumped onto it like some kind of spider monkey!" Bella was laughing. "Vampires as green energy," Bella mused to herself, "I should capitalize on that." They felt easy around each other as she drove, although Edward commented that they could have gotten there faster in his Volvo.

"This way you get to spend more time with me," Bella said coyly, her confidence blooming in his presence. Edward touched the back of her hand, giving her directions but refusing to reveal their end location. Eventually, they arrived at a trail head off the side of the road. There was a hide-away where Bella could park the truck.

"Ready?" He asked. Bella wasn't so sure. "How far is it?" She tried to keep the unease out of her voice.

"Five miles," Edward said casually. Bella's stomach flip-flopped. She had no idea how far five miles was, but it sounded like four miles longer than she had ever walked in her life. Taking a deep breath, she bravely strode towards the trail head. _I can do this_, she told herself. Then Edward's voice came from behind her,

"This way!" He redirected.

"No trail?" Bella was aghast. "Edward. You are trying to kill me." The joke fell flat, Edward stepping back from Bella and looking away. He was taking her to a site he had dreamed of many times with Bella. Though those dreams had been devoid of violence he still did not trust himself with her. Bella kept saying she trusted him. It unnerved Edward.

"Well," Bella broke in now, sorry she had embarrassed him, "you better be okay with making frequent stops. I'm not in the best of shape."

"I love your shape. And I don't care how long it takes," he lead the way.

But before they'd gone much further Edward turned around, a new look on his face. He'd been thinking.

"Bella, before we go any farther I have to tell you something. What I am about to say is the exact reason you should fear me," he stood a distance from her, indecision on his face, "You can still leave me, it's still safe to get away."

"Stop saying that." Bella said gently. She didn't like hearing his disparaging remarks.

"You have to fear me, Bella. Not just because of who I am, but because of who you are. You are…particularly special."

Bella had, like any unpopular girl, always wanted to be special; to attract awe and attention wherever she went. But the weight of Edward's voice informed her that this was not what she had wanted. Something was wrong.

"Bella, I can find you anywhere in a crowd because of your scent. Everyone has their own smell, but yours is striking. It's the smell of your blood, specifically," he steadied himself on a tree. Speaking the words aloud made them real, saying these things to Bella made his desire well up inside him. But he had to tell her.

"The scent of your blood is intoxicating. The moment I met you, I wanted it. I was drunk on it. Even now, I have to fight the urge to kill you. You especially." He felt the venom in his body smolder as he said the words; he felt the power unintentionally given to the horrible Hyde of his character. He had to struggle to re-focus. The day was too unusually beautiful to be talking about murder.

Bella was quiet, trying to absorb the new information. Edward watched her thinking, tormented by the heavy silence between them. He couldn't read her face, he knew that he had finally succeeded in scaring her away. He should be glad, she should shake herself free of him. He must be discarded, an unwanted object, an ineffectual parasite. But he didn't want to see her go. He felt physically bound to this creature.

"I'll need to think about that," Bella said, stepping forward.

"Where are you going?" Edward asked, bewildered by her movement.

"I thought we were going somewhere special?" Bella returned, equally confused.

"You—" Edward stuttered, "You still want to be alone with me? After I said _that_?"

Bella gave a weird laugh, "Yeah, doesn't make much sense does it?"

They both had much to think about along the hike. As they steadily ascended the gentle slope of the woods, neither of them spoke. Edward was aware of Bella—she was a flame to his back; but her utter silence allowed his own thoughts to unfold and regroup. Edward felt callow, writhing in ignorance and doubt. Whenever he turned to look at her face he could see she was deep in thought, but he saw she was also close to him and he couldn't sense any fear in her. He continued to lead her to what may be her doom.

Bella had to sit down and drink some water, catch her breath. She wasn't as out of shape as she had thought, but she was disappointed by the vibration of her legs and the weakness of her muscles. She had been researching running programs on-line, attracted to the idea of inexpensive weight-loss. Now, huffing and twitching, she decided to try one out at the next possible opportunity. She'd never be as fast or strong as Edward, but she might as well improve as much as she could.

Bella let her emotions unknit themselves. She distracted herself by watching the scenery and Edward. She watched how he moved-crept-through the woods. There was a lightness to his feet that she recognized from stories of hunters and enchanted creatures. As she walked, she divided her brain. Her concentration focused on Edward: he moved easily, with a beauty and fluidity to his limbs, but he produced very little sound. It was peaceful and relaxing to watch his muscles work. Meanwhile, the rest of her brain was unpacking various little boxes and rearranging them. She would check in on that progress later.

She felt like she was walking against time in these woods, and that at any minute she might pop into a glade and realize she'd gone backward one hundred years. The light was green and all the trees were vast, with turgid trunks belted in soft moss. The wetness of the climate had allowed the trees and underbrush to thrive. Bella realized she didn't know how old Edward really was, but in the context of these trees she believed he was well beyond seventeen.

"How much further?" She asked when they had been walking for nearly three hours. They had paused again, just enough for her to stretch her legs a little. She had made a little promise to herself that she wouldn't eat any of the food until they arrived wherever Edward was leading her.

"We're very nearly there," he said. Bella stood, her heart lighter. Her legs were numb and she could feel them quivering, but they were nearly there. This actually meant forty-five minutes, but within ten Edward said he could see the place where they were headed.

"Too soon for your eyes," he added.

"Describe it to me, so I know what to look for." Bella said. She measured her words to keep from panting. Her heart wasn't beating fast, but this was well more exercise she had ever had.

"It's a bright patch breaking through the trees," his voice had a smile in it just talking about it, "It looks almost like something is glowing. It's a meadow, an oasis in this jungle, and the air and light of it are palpable even from a distance."

She smiled at the idea of it.

"So you're taking me to a meadow?"

"My magic meadow," Edward said the words with such reverence that Bella felt embarrassed for him. Still, she couldn't hold back a laugh.

"Magic meadow? Edward." She shook her head laughing, "Have you called it that to anyone else?"

"Of course not, Bella. You're the first anything I've brought here." Bella guessed anything encompassed humans and vampires. The word sounded odd to her.

"Well," Bella said, taking on a playful tone, "it sounds kind of gay. You might want to think up a better name for it."

Edward frowned. "I disapprove of that use of gay." His back was to her as he walked, but she could hear him clearly.

"When you are old, you have to watch so many things die, including words. I don't mind when words expand and develop, but when they are narrowed and turned pejorative-well, it bothers me." Bella felt stupid. She didn't mean to sound insulting, but as a seventeen-year-old there are certain cultural stigmas to be regarded, and having a magical meadow smacked of fabulosity.

"But you are right," Edward continued, perhaps sensing she had been hurt. He turned his face to her, "It is my gay meadow." Edward showed her a warm smile. He added gently, "It really doesn't matter what other people think, Bella."

"Show me your frolicking, magical meadow, Edward," she said.

"I am not one to frolic," he returned seriously. "This is how far I have to get away in order to hear silence again. And because you are so special, I can share that silence with you completely."

As they drew nearer Edward's voice changed.

"Bella, would you like to see why I cannot go to school during good weather?"

"Will it hurt you?" she asked, afraid. He shook off his light coat, handing it to Bella. He didn't answer her, letting the tension grow. Bella watched him unvest: he began to unbutton his shirt. He flared the shirt at his throat, exposing white collar bones and the teenage strands of reddish chest hair. He rolled up his sleeves, forearms veined like marble, and took her hand. She felt a light shock at his touch—the same feeling as a stone plucked from a cool river.

"Watch." He instructed, stepping with her into the sunlight.

As they stepped into the clearing Bella kept her eyes on Edward, unsure what would happen. Her stomach knotted and she felt her heart beat faster. The sunlight hit his face and throat first, then his arms as they entered the full clearing. And Bella couldn't hold back a gasp. She looked down at his hand in hers, making sure that it was only him who was sparkling.

Edward's skin refracted light as though it were freckled with mica. No_,_ she thought, it wasn't a glitter like mica in stone, rather, it trapped and altered the light, coming from inside his skin in multiple, beautiful facets: diamonds. Maybe that was why he was so cold all the time and his skin so tough. Maybe he really was made of hard-pressed carbon. There was silence as Edward watched her reaction. Bella blinked back surprise.

"Wow, Edward." Her voice broke a little, "You are dazzling." He smiled and Bella laughed, breaking the tension. My boyfriend sparkles, Bella thought to herself, stupefied, smiling.

_**Author's Note:** Thank you all for the reviews and feedback! I love this chapter because Bella and Edward's insecurities are pushed right to the surface. It's their vulnerability that cements them to each other so quickly, but I want it to feel natural and real (I know, tall order for vampire fanfic!) Let me know if Bella's little break downs speak to you._


	15. The Meadow Scene

Edward brought her to the center of the clearing.

"Allow me," He said, taking his coat back from her and spreading it over the ground, motioning for her to sit down. Bella couldn't keep her eyes off his skin or the rusty contrast his hair made against it. She let her knapsack fall to the ground and sat next to Edward, letting a finger brush the side of his arm, watching the light dapple back against her own skin.

"You're so beautiful," she murmured. Edward looked away, refusing the compliment. Bella had had that same reaction only hours earlier.

"I know," he said softly, shaking his head. "The ingenious evolution of a predator. It's a lure." He looked disgusted with himself.

"No," she said, "I'm sure I'd find your family members attractive as well, but not like this." She cupped her hand to his face, lifting his eyes to look at hers. Solid, pale amber stared at her. "There's something different about it, something…" she paused, needing the word, "Something…Edward about it." She blushed at her inability to find words. Edward felt the confusing mixture of urges rumble in his chest.

"What are we?" Bella asked quietly after a time.

"What do you mean?" Edward responded.

"The word 'boyfriend' is all wrong for you," Bella said.

"I don't know what we are," Edward sighed, remembering the fights with his family over Bella. There was still so much to tell her. "All I know is how I feel about you, Bella. You say you feel the same way, but how can you, given what I've just told you?"

Bella didn't understand it either. When Edward told her that she was special, that he was more dangerous to her specifically, she didn't feel the fear she would have expected. She was still trying to understand what she felt, but the most salient emotions were those of pity and deepening love.

"I don't know yet, at least, I can't explain it," she said softly. "You give me mixed signals," she began, feeling the words rise of their own volition.

"You push me away, try to scare me off, but I can sense that you are reluctant to let me escape. And I don't want to go. I don't feel like I need to. Even when you told me about your instincts and what I do to you…" she shook her head, trying to focus, "I just felt so sad for you."

"The human parts of me-well," he laughed without humor, "what little is left of that. Those human instincts want to protect you," Edward said, "and I know that to really protect you would mean giving you up. But I'm too selfish. You're in so much danger, Bella."

"It doesn't feel that way," she said. Everything inside Bella wanted to try and kiss Edward, to touch his skin and feel his own touch.

"You really want to be in my world with me?" Edward asked, "You want to face these monsters?"

"Do you want me to be with you?" Bella returned, her heartbeat quickening as he leaned closer to her.

"I do," Edward responded, "though everything and everyone tells me that I'm wrong." But Edward wasn't scaring her off.

Despite the danger, Edward offered her a life of reality. With him, she could lift the veil and see what was really important, not just the shadowplay of high school dramas. His existence and presence challenged her to make choices, understand her own motives, and listen carefully. Life with Edward was intense, and Bella felt herself pulled to a new level of maturity and contemplation when she was with him. In his presence, she was muddled in some ways but utterly clear in others: and in this way, she was sure that whatever she felt for Edward was unlike anything unfolding in the corridors of her high school. There was something radical about her love for him.

"I'm in." She replied. "I'm sticking around." Bella could feel the weight behind these words and she knew they were true, even though her rational mind was failing to process any of the conversation.

"Then you are my partner." He smiled. Bella let it sink in a little. She sensed that this love would be bittersweet.

"Hold still," he said gently, leaning in to her, "Whatever you do, don't move." _This is it_, Bella thought to herself. _If we really are a couple, then he has to kiss me at some point… doesn't he?_ She waited.

Edward's face brushed alongside hers, resting in the space between her jaw and neck. He turned, his nose tracing a cold line from her ear to her cheek. Bella was having difficulty controlling her breathing. Her eyes were closed. She felt him draw his face alongside hers, pausing, tentative. Then his forehead was pressed lightly against her own and she could feel the air of his breath against her lips. Before she knew what she was doing, she reached a hand behind Edward's nape to draw him closer.

And he was gone. Her hand shook in the air where once Edward had been and she felt dazed by the surprise. When her eyes focused she found him, at the tree line, hiding among firs.

"I'm sorry," she apologized stupidly, unsure what she had done but knowing she'd crossed a line.

Edward shook his head, walking back, apologizing.

"No, no. You just surprised me," he laughed lightly to himself, his shoulders rising with the sound. He hadn't been surprised in so many years. "I'm okay. I can do this." Edward sat down again.

"I'll be better this time. I'm getting used to… you."

Bella wanted his intimacy and his touch, but something inside her was still incredulous that Edward could want the same from her. Edward inhaled the scent of her skin and she lightly pushed him back.

"I don't want to hurt you," She said, shy now.

"You aren't, not right now. Today isn't as bad as other days." Edward ran his hand along her ponytail, keeping his fingers free of the snare of her tangled black hair. He wanted to just enjoy the meadow with her, to leave the death behind and bring back the tenderness.

"Well, what can I do to help?" She asked.

"Let's enjoy the sunshine," Edward said "it's so rare." He shifted, his skin shimmering brilliantly with the movement. Bella was tempted to take him up on the offer, to lose herself to his bedazzlement, but she knew they had to work this out before she could relax with him again.

Bella couldn't pull her eyes from his skin, she caught herself trying to recognize a pattern in the shimmering. He mesmerized her, just like a good predator should. She moved her eyes away to the grass.

They sat in silence awhile longer, now just staring at the nodding wildflowers in the grass or the clouds drifting bulkily across the surreal sky. After awhile Bella ventured another difficult question.

"Was it my scent that made you faint the first time?"

"You were different the first time." He answered, not looking at her, "Afterward, I congratulated myself on getting used to you, but then it came back suddenly in full force. There are…" Edward worked his lips, trying to figure out a gentlemanly way to address her cycles, "certain times of the month where I pray for good weather so I can be absent from school," he said. He almost whispered the words, apparently afraid the woodland creatures would overhear.

Bella flushed with embarrassment and Edward gave a low laugh, "That's bad, too. When you blush it is another change in blood flow. Stirs the scent."

"I'll try to blush less," Bella said softly. "And about the… other thing. I can talk to a doctor. They have pills which can slow that down now." But she didn't relish the idea of taking pills for her period or fooling around with her cycles. Furthermore, Bella couldn't imagine the talk she was going to have to have with Charlie soon. _Dad, I'm dating Edward. Oh, and I need to go on birth control_.

"What do I smell like?" She asked. Edward didn't want to continue the conversation, but Bella stared him down evenly, her dark eyebrows impassive and the chin of her heart-shaped face jutting out defiantly. They were going to be honest here. Edward sighed, giving in and leaning back along the ground again.

"It smells like the key to happiness," he hummed the words, closing his eyes and quieting his breathing. She watched Edward speak, hoping he would continue.

"It smells like the only good memory left in a bleak century. To me, it smells like the potted flowers in my parents' house when I was growing up. Before they died. Before I turned. It smells like the dust motes and the bricks of the houses in Chicago, like the comfort in knowing that you have protectors, and that the world is only as big as your back yard.

"It smells like if I were to indulge, you would cure me." He sighed, trapped between two worlds.

"I don't know how to describe that sort of temptation," he continued, "Food is too simple a metaphor. Maybe it is more like a drug. Heroin, perhaps. Except it isn't just the cessation of torment, it is also the promise of warmth and reassurance." He frowned, his words weren't making sense, a rare thing for him.

"I think I understand a little," Bella's voice surprised him, he could hear tears in her throat. He turned onto his side to look at her, and she had been weeping silently as he talked.

"It's nothing I can imagine," she said, "and I can't possible pretend I've ever had to struggle with those kinds of demons, but…" her voice trailed off. Edward needed to know how that sentenced ended.

"But?" he prompted, stroking her cheek, cooling her flushed face.

"It takes a lot of energy pretending to be okay," Bella said, "and there is one little happiness that makes things easier. But then it doesn't." She blew out her cheeks. She'd never talked about this with herself, let along another person. The words filled her mouth like marbles,

"Everything will feel so bad, so off kilter, and then I'll realize there is a perfect cure waiting at home. I guess it's food, but it isn't, it's something the food gives me," She sighed.

"Edward, I didn't get like this just because of genetics or liking fried food. I'm fat because I get something out of food that only works for so long. But it doesn't ever satisfy me. It makes me worse, and then I need more food to deal with all that."

She pushed Edward's hand away from her face, "You can say no to the single greatest temptation of your life, but I can't say no to cold, leftover spaghetti." She gave a sad laugh. She was confirming her earlier fears: she didn't deserve Edward.

"Bella," Edward's voice was kind, "you didn't fall in love with the spaghetti."

Bella coughed a laugh, sick of crying. "Now I'm trying to scare you away," she croaked, wiping her face.

"Scare _me_ away? That will never happen. Listen to me, Bella," he looked into her eyes, "you woke me up. You saved me. You deserve better than old spaghetti."

_And you deserve a partner with her shit together_, Bella thought to herself.

Her stomach made a noise and Edward looked alarmed. The sudden mood shift made her laugh. She took the nuts and apples out of her bag, "I'm okay, Edward." She assured him. She shifted to more innocent questions,

"Why do you drive so fast?" she asked, biting into the tart apple and wiping away the last of her tears.

"Why shouldn't I?" Edward returned. The two of them settled into a mood of playfulness, recovering from the depths of their previous conversation.

"You could hurt somebody." She said, aware that she was chastising a blood-sucking vampire about vehicular manslaughter.

"I can hear them coming," he had a playful grin on his face, confident he would win the argument.

"You can't hear me coming. Maybe there are others like me."

Edward was touching the inside of her wrist again, bringing the delicate skin to his lips, "There cannot possibly be anyone like you. Everything about you astounds me."

He paused, thinking to himself, and murmured into her white skin, "Does it make you uncomfortable that I find you attractive?"

Bella answered by carefully removing her hand from Edward's grip.

"What's wrong?" he asked, determined to hear those secret thoughts.

Bella shook her head. The more Edward touched her, the more she wanted him, and the more she hated herself for it. She wanted Edward, badly, but not with this body. Her leg muscles were trembling from exertion, and when she looked down she could see the expansive horizon of her stomach, rising and falling with her breath. Even though she has probably earned her state of hunger, she still felt ashamed to be hungry with this much fat on her. Furthermore, she guessed that Alice's lovely shirt was darkened with sweat.

"This isn't right," she said softly, taking her arm from Edward's hand. Edward's affected breathing stopped. He had done this. He had pushed her too hard; his attempts to scare her away were too persuasive and she was finally realizing the danger of their situation. But Edward realized that he couldn't let her go now, that it really was too late.

"No," he said. "No, Bella. We're partners." He was suddenly desperate, a feeling alien and alarming to him. He had never doubted before, never had to live in ignorance with another being. Bella didn't make things easy for him.

"Look at you, Edward," Bella said, reluctantly running her eyes over the chisel of his jaw and the chiaroscuro of his shadowed eyes against brilliant skin. "You're magnificent. Immortal. Super human." She pulled her eyes away, "And what am I? Weak. Plain. Dull. I don't deserve you, Edward."

There was a long pause that unnerved Bella. She couldn't read Edward's expression. His mouth was open and slowly twisting into a crazy, wry smile. He couldn't help himself. A sharp bark of laughter erupted out of his chest, breaking his arrhythmic breathing and making Bella jump.

"Bella! You—?" He couldn't form words but just kept laughing, somewhat hysterically. He appeared joyous, crowing in warm, throaty laughter. He even fell onto his back, laughing up at the sky. He calmed himself enough to form a coherent sentence. As he sat up he took Bella's hand. She was staring incredulously.

"Bella Swan, I have been waiting for you for decades. You are utterly perfect to me." He shook his head, smiling and surprised at the articulation of his human emotions, "I cannot predict you. I cannot get enough of you. You drive me absolutely mad, and I adore it. I'm an honest-to-God monster, a blood-feeding killer, and you think you don't deserve me?" The smile fell, one feature at a time, to concern.

"Why?" He asked, his voice changed, softened, "How can you think that? You know how I feel about you."

"Yeah, well. My beauty is on the inside, you know? Personality and intellect and all that." She didn't sound too convinced.

"But my beauty is glaring," he said disdainfully.

"No!" Bella gasped, "I mean. I love that, too. But… well it was a kind of an obstacle at first, actually."

Edward laughed again and the sound of it echoed off the trees.

"Really?" He was smiling genuinely now. He had been handsome when he brooded at school, but his smile was easily the most attractive of his assets. It pulled his cheeks around his eyes and showed off human canines, not monstrous at all.

"Yeah," Bella said uneasily, "I mean, all the attractive guys I've ever met have been jerks. Present company included." She added, reminding him of his earlier attempts to drive her away. She shrugged,

"That, and, I figured someone like you could never like someone like me."

"Is that why you were so honest with me?" He asked with curiosity.

"Partly. You were so far out of my league, I couldn't even really imagine you liking me on a romantic level." This hurt Edward but Bella continued, "Plus, you naturally draw that out of me. I just… I'm more myself around you than anyone I've ever met."

"Yeah," Edward said gently, "me too. I mean…" he faltered, "I mean about me being more me around you than…" he gave up exasperated by the syntax, "Well you know what I mean." Bella smiled as Edward lay beside her again, relaxing.

"Who taught you to hate yourself so much?" He asked Bella, imagining beating them with their own legs.

"What? I don't hate myself." She said defensively. "I've got a great personality, I'm smart, I'm funny, and I have a pretty good head on my shoulders."

"And you're beautiful," Edward added, then, "sexy even. Especially when you're lacing those boots and your hair falls into your face."

He watched the effect this had on Bella. She was uncomfortable with the idea.

"See? There. You don't believe me." He noticed.

"No," She agreed, "I don't believe you."

"Bella," Edward said, "I've been on this earth for over a century," Bella swallowed this piece of information, having known it intrinsically but still surprised to hear it aloud, "Carlisle has been around much longer. If there is anything I have learned, it is that humans are innately confused about beauty. They see it in so many places, but then they put arbitrary limits on it. I don't love you _despite_ your body, Bella. I love your body, too. I love all of you, all that you are."

"But how?" Bella asked in frustration. "How is that possible? I repulse me."

Edward was quiet for a moment. Bella could guess what he was thinking.

"How can you love a vampire?" He asked.

"I don't know that I would have," she replied honestly, "until I met you." Bella thought over this for a little while and added, "What do you think that means?"

Edward was caught off guard.

"It means we are star-crossed lovers, confused and deadly." He said the words as rote fact. Bella gave a sad laugh,

"No," she said gently, "I mean…cosmically." _What_? Edward thought to himself, unused to being so far behind the conversation.

"Look, I've told you that I love you," she began, taking his hand, "and it is not for the usual reasons. It isn't because you are gorgeous, popular or rich, but despite all that. I love that you're still just a boy, vulnerable, intelligent, serious and sometimes sweetly absurd."

Bella paused self-consciously after uttering the words. Something about Edward made her speak too honestly and she felt too open. She let her hand drop from his to the grass, fiddling with the green blades. She shouldn't touch Edward so much, it made him nervous. She always wanted to touch him.

"Bella," Edward said slowly, afraid she was ignoring his earlier confession, "You understand what I am, don't you? I'm designed to kill you. A very real part of me even wants to." The conversation had taken a turn so quickly Edward had whiplash. He was struggling to understand the new direction it was taking. Bella nodded, not making eye contact and furrowing her brow, the little boxes had been unpacked and arranged. She was now taking inventory.

"Yeah, you said that. But listen. Really listen. This is special," she let her eyes meet Edward's. They were a dappled fawn color and tears welled in her own eyes against her will, "This," she tentatively touched the skin on the back of his hand, tracing his veins before slipping her own hand into his, "is special.

"Why do you think you cannot hear my thoughts, Edward? Why is my blood specifically your drug? Why do I love you-_you_, Edward Cullen," she repeated firmly, a tear falling down her cheek, "even knowing what you are?"

His head was spinning. He had never felt so weak. Bella always surprised him. He felt then that even if he could hear her thoughts, he doubted he'd understand them.

"What are you saying?" he asked dazedly.

"I'm saying it's like we're made for each other. It's too many coincidences." Edward looked up at her from under his lashes and her voice faltered.

"Are—" his brow knit together, "are you saying we're soul mates?" Bella shook her head noncommittally.

"I don't know," she said, "Not exactly. It seems we were fated to meet, specialized for each other. But our happiness is in our control, Edward. I choose to accept you. You have to choose to trust me. We're not safe, just because we're special. We can still screw this up. So we have to be honest with each other.

"Do you think you would have ever fallen in love with a girl if you could have read her mind? Do you think you would have realized you loved me if you didn't have to struggle with me in particular? And against all probability, I am not scared of you. I love you, even. You, Edward, not your predatory tricks."

Edward was eying her, unconvinced. At that point, the seventeen-year-old immortal vampire said, "I don't know, Bella, it seems far-fetched."

The irony made her hiccup with laughter.

Edward shook his head, "Of all the incarnations of this nightmare confession, none of them ended this way." He stared at her hand inside his. He closed his eyes, letting his fingers trace the soft inside of her wrist, feel her pulse. She was calm.

"You always surprise me," he murmured. The silence of the meadow enclosed on them again, and they leaned into that silence, content to say nothing. Bella watched the speckles of light bouncing against her hand as she held it over Edward's skin. Edward watched Bella breathe, swallow, adjust her position, wipe dirt off her elbow.

"I don't ignore the monster in you, Edward," she said after awhile, "It's formed so much of you. So many parts that intrigue me, parts that I love. It is ingrained in your identity. That's why I love it. Because it is yours."

She could see Edward struggled with this idea. To him, her quirks and humanity were the unique qualities that made her special. Whereas he was a barely domesticated wild animal, trained and specialized in the slaughter of humans; none of these qualities could be called endearing.

But Bella didn't love that Edward was a vampire, she loved how he fought against it and demanded better of himself. She admired his strength, determination and the careful way he approached ideas and theories. She couldn't understand how someone so old, smart and attractive could settle for a dumpy teenager.

"Then I guess that is the same way I love you." Edward finally answered, "Can you feel the same way about me?"

Bella felt so meek next to Edward. She wasn't pretty. She wasn't supernatural. She was nothing. What did she really have to offer? But he honestly enjoyed her company, and she would have to trust that when he said he loved her, even the parts she was ashamed of, that he was telling the truth.

"Yes. I don't agree with it, but I will believe it. But only because you say so. I wouldn't trust anyone else."

The quiet of the meadow overtook them again. The afternoon had set in and the sun was warm. Bella couldn't relax around Edward, though, she could barely keep her eyes off his skin. Edward's eyes were closed, as though he were sleeping

Suddenly Edward laughed strangely, his eyes flashing open and a new expression was on his face.

"Bella Swan, if my nature, my predatory skills, and blood lust don't scare you, then maybe this will."

He moved towards her. "Put on your backpack. I'm going to show you how I get through the woods." His smile was unsettling, he was trying to scare Bella and he nearly succeeded. But she wouldn't let him have the satisfaction. She folded his jacket into her knapsack. Then Edward cupped a hand under her elbow, controlling her arm. He swung her onto his back in a fluid movement that left Bella breathless.

"Umm, Edward," she gasped, "I'm pretty heavy and—"

"Just hold on tight, little one," he arranged her hands into a strong vice grip under his throat and hitched her legs to wrap around him tighter. Bella was keenly aware of her stomach pressing into his back and the sweet-smoky smell of Edward's breath. Then he locked a protective hand onto one of her arms and shot off.

Bella nearly let go out of shock and innate terror, but Edward's firm grip threatened to drag her if she slid off. She felt him pull one of her legs tighter around his middle, and she clamped down, scared out of her mind. It was like riding a bullet. Edward smiled to himself, feeling the tremble of her muscles.

He swerved through trees and barely jostled her at all. His movements were sensuous and the only thing that alerted her to their speed was the wind whipping through her tendrils and the bright green blur of the forest. She could feel his legs loping casually, slower than seemed possible for their speed. He wasn't breathing at all. She ducked her head against his, too scared to keep looking, but curiosity eventually got the better of her and she peeked at the blurry rush of scenery again.

There was a nauseating flip as Edward slowed, running up a tree and flipping backwards into a stop, the final loop of a roller coaster.

"Oh my God," Bella said in a thick voice.

"I'm not a god," Edward laughed. When he realized Bella couldn't untangle herself from him, he gently sat her against a log and with deft, firm hand, separated her death grip. She was green.

"Put your head between your legs and breathe deeply." He said. Bella obeyed, taking measured breaths. She couldn't figure out whether she felt an adrenaline high, a rush, or pure nausea.

"Was it fun for you?" He asked with a giddiness to his voice that she was starting to recognize.

"I don't know. I'm still recovering," she wheezed, forcing a laugh. It was fun, but she was reeling.

"Well, I hope it was. Next time we can jump through the trees." He was smiling. Bella shook her head,

"Uh, maybe not jumping…"

"Oh yes, little one." He had a look of pleasure at her fear, "I've got to strike terror into that stony heart of yours somehow."

Then he was beside her. Bella felt her breath and sense of gravity returning. She was calming herself down, starting to feel the wild rush of adrenaline kick in.

"Bella, are you going to throw up?" He asked gently. A tinge of ick chimed in the back of Bella's head as she remembered her binge the previous night. No, she wouldn't throw up today. She shook her head. "I'm great," she said.

"Good. Because I really want to do this." He took her face in his cool hands, hands that felt so good against the flush of her cheeks. Then slowly, he angled her eyes to meet his so that she would be prepared. Her heart froze and her lungs expanded and she leaned into him, eagerly. Edward slowed her a little, gently, making a soft hushing noise.

Bella closed her eyes and waited. The lips came, cool and surprising on her own. She felt his nose against her cheek. She felt an involuntary sigh of pleasure escape her throat—a noise she had never heard herself make in her entire life. And she felt glossy, sharp teeth just beyond her own. Her hands, again acting of their own accord, grabbed onto Edward's lapels and pulled him deeper into the kiss.

She was kissing him now. She was drinking him in, her heart racing, her blood pumping in her head. The weirdness of a first kiss had come and gone and moved straight into raw desire. She heard herself give another little moan as she pushed for more. But Edward broke away, pressing his forehead to hers, panting.

"Oh." He said breathlessly.

Bella was dizzy. Drunken. On fire. "Again." She whispered, but Edward shook his head. She felt his hair tickle her skin.

"I don't know if I can take more. Bella, you're…" She thought he might be trembling. Perhaps that was her, though.

"Bella you're incredible." He sighed. She laughed,

"No I'm not."

He pulled back to look her in the eyes. His eyes were a dark brown, the color of caramelized sugar just before it burns. She was taken aback by the intensity of his look.

"Small doses." He said, swallowing and clearing his throat. She nodded and Edward moved to sprawl next to her, staring at the canopy above them. They sat there in silence, listening to each other's breathing. Bella strangely felt as though she were the predator, holding herself back from Edward. Eventually, they got up and made their way back to the truck, which was close by.

"One more question," Bella wheedled, smiling, as they walked back to the truck. Edward loved her smile and couldn't help but acquiesce.

"You stalked me? All the way to Silverdale?" Edward laughed, nodding his head. He felt so young with Bella.

"I trust Alice's premonition. She told me to keep you in sight for awhile. I took it to heart." He didn't like the word stalk. He was just protective.

Bella laughed, Alice did sound pretty cool. She teased,

"That doesn't mean you watched me in my sleep does it?"

An unexpected and awkward pause followed. Bella's eyes grew wide,

"What! Oh my God, Edward! Have you been watching me sleep?" She stumbled to a stop, catching herself on a tree.

"I thought—it's not—you look so peaceful!" he stammered. Only this one mortal could render him speechless so easily.

"No, Edward! No! That is not—oh my God." She was mortified, her face turning red, "How much have you seen?" Her voice dripped with horror.

"I just show up a few hours before you wake up. I like doing my homework near you," he was defensive, "I thought you'd find it romantic." Edward was trying to catch Bella's eye and pass on his smile, but she wouldn't look at him.

Bella breathed slowly, trying to calm herself down. She was grateful that nights in Forks were cold and she had to sleep in thick layers. Furthermore, she was glad she hadn't done anything embarrassing since moving to Forks—she was always afraid of her father walking in while she danced, popped zits, or indulged in a bit of post-pubescent exploration.

"Edward," she said gently, regaining herself, "how long have you been a vampire?"

"Carlisle turned me when I was seventeen, which was 92 years ago." To Edward, this did not feel relevant to the conversation.

Bella nodded slowly, gaining control of the situation. They were partners now, no matter how weird things got. Not only was Edward a telepathic vampire, but he had been isolated from humans for so long that he seemed to have forgotten certain social norms.

"Okay," Bella was calming herself down, though she still was jarred by the idea of him hanging outside her window, "Well, you watching me sleep is only romantic if I've invited you over; if I have given some kind of consent. You could have seen me do something private, or I might have caught you and screamed. Do you understand?"

"Sexual…private?" Edward asked uncomfortably. Bella blushed heavily,

"No! No, no no. Not necessarily that, just—well, singing or talking in my sleep or—Christ, Edward, girls don't wear bras to bed!"

"Okay! I'm sorry!" he apologized, "I didn't anticipate such offense, I saw no harm in keeping you company. I wasn't trying to see anything, I just wanted to stand guard but your face is so expressive when you sleep that I stayed. And then I kept coming back. I told you, Bella, I'm greedy for you." He moved towards her, affectionate, but Bella held up a hand to stop him.

This was not as flattering as she would have thought. Stalking didn't seem sweet, even if it was someone you liked.

"How about this," she offered, "you can only watch me sleep if I am aware of it. I have to fall asleep in front of you, you can't just sneak around like that."

"I'm sorry, Bella, I didn't know it would be a big deal. I never meant to hurt or scare you," he shrugged his shoulders guiltily, "Well, actually I do mean to scare you quite often but not that way." She touched the tips of his fingers, hanging at his side. They brought their hands up again, pressing the palms together.

"I can forgive you," Bella smiled softly, "but you understand why I was mad?" Edward nodded, feeling childish. Suddenly Bella pulled her hand back, her jaw opening accusingly with wide eyes,

"Edward! When you said you did homework, were you hanging from my windowsill or—" she broke off and stepped back, knowing he had crossed another line. This time, the invasion of privacy was so ludicrous and extreme that she burst into a fit of giggling.

"That's B&E!" She managed to choke through laughs, images of Charlie's angry mustache in her head.

"Bella and Edward?" he asked, miles behind her mood shift. At this, Bella's stopped breathing she was laughing so hard. A high-pitched wheeze came out of her lungs and her body convulsed and she doubled over. Edward panicked, he was by her side instantly and he put his hands on her shoulder, lifting her upright,

"Bella! Bella, what's wrong?" When her voice came back she was gasping for air, wiping away tears, and smiling.

"Breaking and entering," she gasped, "a crime. Oh, but I like 'Bella and Edward' so much better." She giggled conspiratorially and the panic in Edward's face melted. A hesitant laugh came out, encouraged by her own. She ran her fingers through his hair and sighed happily, leaning back against a tree.

"Edward, why are we so weird?" She sighed, still smiling.

"Because it's like you said. We have something special," he replied, laughter still echoing in his voice.

"Do you have any more questions?" he asked as he pulled her to her feet. They were so close to the truck.

"Of course I do, I just can't…think of them. Right now."

"Not everything we ask each other must be life or death," Edward said gently, "You could always try treating me like a regular boy."

Hearing Edward refer to himself as a regular boy tugged at a piece of Bella. She stopped, pulling on his hand. When he turned to meet her face, a question in his expression, she very carefully brought her lips to his. It took all of her strength to keep the kiss quick, simple and chaste. But the smoothness of his lips and the transfer of heat onto his marble skin was enough to leave them both silent and giddy.

Edward warmed his cheek against her throat, breathing slowly. They stood, holding each other, for a few breaths.

"Feel how warm you've made me," Edward said after awhile, bringing Bella's hand to his skin.

"Was that okay for you?" Bella asked, touching his half-shimmering skin.

He nodded, "I'm getting more and more used to your proximity. But sometimes I feel like I'm about to lose control. I can't let that happen."

"You won't." Bella assured him.


	16. Honeymoon

**_Author's Note:_**_I'm not going to tweak the canon too much despite this being AU, but you will see more of my personal writing style and preferences in this chapter, especially towards the end. I labelled this "Honeymoon" because it is the naive and sweet part of their relationship, and a time to which they will not be returning easily (if ever). They are still exploring boundaries and Edward is still holding back._**  
><strong>

**Part the sixth: Honeymoon**

Night was falling early when they arrived at Bella's house. She was embarrassed by the sounds of growling in her stomach. Their long walk had burned up all her energy, and she felt sick with hunger. She remembered why she never liked letting herself get hungry; rather than a pang or a sharpness, her want was edged with nausea and dizziness. Another rumble gurgled angrily from her midriff.

"When I make that sound," Edward said, "it is a lot more menacing." He was looking at Bella's stomach, which made her more uncomfortable.

She snuck back into the house. In the kitchen, she drank two large glasses of water to drown out the noises of her organs. She was hungry and wanted to eat something—anything at all, but she remembered her promise to herself. She heated up a mug of soup and threw together a quick sandwich with extra lettuce. While she waited for the soup she took a grateful bite out of her sandwich and a sigh of pleasure involuntarily escaped. Charlie, who had heard her furtive noises in the kitchen sauntered in and scared the bejeezus out of her.

"It was almost dark out," he said disapprovingly. Bella jumped. She knew her father was home, but she had gotten distracted by hunger and forgotten his presence. Her fidgeting didn't make her look innocent.

"I was out for a walk with Edward on a trail. We were exploring the mountains." She felt the thrill of a secret mix with terror as she half-lied to her father. She sipped on soup that was too hot.

"That why you took my boots?" He asked crossing his arms.

"Sorry, I hoped you wouldn't need them," she drank down more water, feeling her nerves start to settle down again, "I'm really tired from the hike," she lied, thinking of Edward creeping around the back of the house, waiting for Bella to give him a signal from her room.

"I wanted to just go upstairs and read before bed."

"You've been kind of distant lately, Bells," Charlie said, surprising Bella. This rarely happened; Charlie was usually just as eager as Bella to keep up their affable distance. If Bella weren't so worried about Edward she might have responded to her father's offer. But she didn't have time.

"There' a lot going on at school and I've just been distracted. It's been hard making friends at Forks," this part was true. Bella couldn't lie very well, but she was getting better at selective storytelling.

"I'm really tired, Dad." She said, moving towards the stairs. He stepped out of her way, a sliding door.

"Okay, Bells. But I worry about you." His concern bothered Bella and she wanted to reassure him somehow, but couldn't find anything that would work.

"I'm okay, Dad. I'm just tired." And she disappeared up the steps. Soon she heard the volume on the television turn up as Charlie settled back into the den.

"You need to meet my family," Edward said, lifting himself lightly through the window "what are you doing tomorrow?"

"Homework?" Bella responded timidly, balancing her food as she clambered into bed, fully dressed. She knew she'd have to face the Cullen-Hale family sooner or later but she wasn't looking forward to it. They'd all kept their distance from her at school—except for the rib-bruising incident with Alice. Charlie was still on her mind, but he gradually disappeared as Edward filled the small space of her room.

"I'll get you back in time for homework. Carlisle and Esme really want to meet you. And Alice is always enthusiastic."

"What about the others?" Bella asked, blowing on the mug of soup to cool it. Edward's face gave away his hesitation.

"Okay," Bella apologized, "I'll meet them. But you have to tell me more about them. Carlisle was the first?"

* * *

><p>Edward deftly moved the rocking chair in Bella's room to the side of her bed, sitting down and enjoying the groan of the wicker as he eased his weight into the seat. His previous visits in her room had been painstaking as he crept in the shadows, stealing secret hours in her presence. Now he only had to hide from her father and the relief washed over him in a surprisingly physical wave. No more secrets, not from Bella.<p>

He wished he had spoken to Carlisle about this before: exactly how much should she know? There were laws that governed the relationships between vampires and humans. He didn't mind flouting the laws and revealing his own secrets, but how deeply could he incriminate his family?

He watched her eat her simple dinner. She paced her breathing and swallowing, unconsciously dividing air and food: this to the lungs, this to the stomach. He thought of all the things necessary to keep her alive, all the clockwork mechanisms running in microscopic detail. She had a network of defensive reactions and fail-safes, preprogrammed information writing and rewriting itself, all working to keep her breathing and pulsing. With his sensitivities, he could hear the enthusiastic hum of her living body, and the five liters or so of bright, oxygenated blood rushing around her system.

He was a new addition to this system; another line of defense to keep the wide-eyed human alive. His first instinct was to lie or be evasive, to keep her coddled in a warm womb of ignorance and feed her a diluted solution of information. But she was so much to him and he valued her brain as much as her body; she had asked him for trust and truth. With a heavy sigh that shook away decades of deception, Edward set about telling this beautiful child stories of real monsters.

Carlisle had been the son of a priest, a zealous persecutor of witches and vampires in London in the mid-seventeenth century. This partially explained Carlisle's engaging accent. Bella asked Edward to pause so she could let this crumb of information settle: Carlisle was over three centuries old. When she shook her head with wonder, Edward continued.

At that time, it was only natural for the son to take on the father's job, and so a very young and ambitious Carlisle went into the priesthood as well vampire hunting. Unfortunately, Carlisle was educated and careful, which meant that he uncovered real vampires rather than scape-goats and social delinquents.

"I imagine his vampires were very old," Edward said in a queer voice. The story was one he must have replayed in his mind many times, but with Carlisle around Edward never had the need to recount the story in his own words. Bella was rapt.

"They were decrepit," he mused, working off Carlisle's piecemeal human memories, "hiding from humans and only feeding at night. They were scavengers, really, and clever. But Carlisle had discovered an entrance to their coven.

"He crouched at the sewer entrance where the coven hid, alerting a waiting mob of commoners when an ancient one appeared. Carlisle's memory is corrupted by mortality, and it is not crisp like his new vampire memories. But there is a feel of the language those vampires spoke: it was Latin, a call of warning to his own coven.

"The ancient one could have easily outrun Carlisle and the others, but he was thirsty. They kept their privacy in an over-populated city by hunting rarely." Here Edward paused. Bella didn't really need to know how humans became vampires, not the explicit recipe anyway.

"Two men were killed outright, but Carlisle escaped, infected. The villagers would have burned Carlisle to prevent the infection from spreading. He was driven by self-preservation, and so he hid in a cellar, covered by half-rotten vegetables." Bella watched Edward's face: it was sad and proud, but she could see that the more Edward spoke of Carlisle, the more he hated himself. She wanted to like Carlisle, but an anger kindled in her as she watched the man she loved wound himself.

It would be nearly three centuries until Carlisle would find a family, Edward explained. His natural compassion and desire to interact with humans led him to pursue a career as a doctor of medicine and the first vampire to ever practice "vegetarianism". The story sped up quickly, leaping centuries easily.

During the 1918 influenza pandemic that killed millions worldwide, Carlisle was working in Chicago. He had watched helplessly as two parents succumbed to the fatally rapid strain of the virus, leaving a frail and pitiful orphan behind. It was Edward, seventeen and unlikely to survive the resulting infection in his lungs. By then, Carlisle had grown despondent. Centuries had passed and he had failed to find companionship of any kind. He did not fully understand the biology, if there is one, behind vampirism, but he had an idea of the infection.

"He asked the boy, 'Would you mind being my son?'" Edward kept his eyes away from Bella as she listened.

"The boy admired the doctor, and still does." Edward smiled grimly, and before Bella could interrupt he continued,

"I was a sort of experiment. When Carlisle understood the mechanism, he sought the rest of his family, and found Esme."

"Did he know Esme before—?" Bella asked.

"Not really," Edward shook his head, "it was one of those love-at-first-sight occurrences. She had been in a bad accident, a fall from a great height. He only approached those on death's door, those who would die otherwise.

"And so it was the three of us for awhile." He continued, lost in his own story, "I went through my teen rebellion stage, but eventually settled into the monotony of our current, nomadic life."

"Edward," Bella asked, her meal done, "you said that Carlisle never killed a human, but then how could you have?"

"That story won't help you sleep," he evaded from his chair. Bella could see that he hid the information for his own sake as well as hers—even though he didn't sleep, he still appeared haunted by nightmares. The skin below his eyes was a bruised color that, transformed by his magic, was handsome. Still, she could see past his beauty to the tired boy behind the marble.

"Your breath will help me sleep," she offered, knowing this would comfort him as well as her, "Come," she made room on the bed, patting on the top of the blankets. He would be near, but still at a distance. Bella guessed Edward would initially refuse, but he stood, surprised by his own movement. He lay heavy on the bed, sinking the mattress lower and momentarily worrying Bella. But the bed held his density. They faced each other, on their sides. She, cocooned in her quilts, and he still wearing his date clothes, which smelled of the crushed chlorophyll from the meadow's grass.

"So heavy for such a thin boy," she teased lightly, easing the wrinkles out of his furrowed brow.

"I like to imagine," she said, stroking a finger along his hairline, "that there is a speck of stardust inside you. Only the remnant of a star could be so dense and small." She gave a sad smile, moved by pity for his heavy head.

"I don't want you to forgive me, Bella," he began.

"I know. Tell me the story anyway." She wanted to unburden him, even if it was only a little.

Edward inhaled and then exhaled slowly, letting his words ride on a draft of scented air. Bella took everything in, keeping her eyes on the partner beside her.

"Carlisle had transcended the curse. He found a better way out. I thought that, being able to read minds, I was the next logical step in our evolution. I would improve upon his foundation. I'd be stronger than Carlisle: I wouldn't have to abstain because I could make sound judgments and feed upon society's predators. Armed with self-righteous zeal, I left Carlisle and had my first taste of human blood." His eyes closed and he put his hand over his face.

"Bella, please, I shouldn't tell you this…"

She worked her fingers under his own, peeling them back from his face. Any effort she made to move Edward would always have to be with his consent, and he let her uncover his face.

"I'm yours now," she said, surprised at the ease with which she said these words, "and I've taken the bad with the good. Give it to me. Who were they?" Her voice was steadier than her nerves, and there was a voice in her head saying, "No! Don't let him tell you!" but she had to know. She was too curious.

"They were degenerates, walking the streets and calculating which women they would seize for the night: they were my food," his eyes stared at something beyond Bella, "I convinced myself I was part of a system; a premature decomposer. I processed the garbage before it had actually died." Bella listened, remembering that not long ago Edward saved her from just those sorts of men. She would not interrupt him.

"But even armed with my skills and my rationale, I was still subject to the inevitable nadir…" he caught Bella's brow furrowing and corrected himself, "the depression that comes from being a predator with a conscience. I told myself I was participating in society, that I helped maintain a balance. I told myself that I saved many more than I killed…."

_How many did you kill, Edward?_ But Bella couldn't bring herself to know this truth. Not yet.

"Prowling in people's minds, you see too much. I was on a night train in a compartment adjacent to a musician. I was bored and he was interesting, so I listened in. He was praying. He was thanking God for the changes in his life; and I saw all of it.

"Had I met him a few years earlier, I would have gladly killed him for what he had done. I saw all those shameful memories, and then I saw the change and shift. I heard his music, both in his memory and his heart. He had lifted himself out of child molesting and murder—true horrors—and become a beacon to others.

"I saw the truth then. I was only a band-aid, motivated by megalomania and vigilante justice. I helped no one but myself. It was cynicism to kill those men, and want of hope." He sighed and the breath moved along Bella's curls. She felt ashamed to admit that a part of her had been relieved when he said he had only preyed upon other predators. Now she saw that his reverence for life extended beyond crimes.

"I returned to Carlisle and Esme. They welcomed me back warmly, the prodigal son. I could read Carlisle's confidence strengthen. Even I, _omniscient_," he drawled the word with derision, "could not live as the others. Carlisle's way is the only way. It is the right way."

Bella was quiet as she processed the information. Edward's eyes fell on her face, searching for a clue to her emotions, but she did not yet know them, and he couldn't draw any conclusions. After awhile she said,

"It isn't my place to forgive you, Edward. But you can't make me condemn you, either."

Something flashed behind Edward's eyes, and to Bella it looked like anger. He turned onto his back, facing away from her. First Carlisle and Esme, now Bella. His final card had been played, his worst truth had been revealed, and still she wouldn't be scared off. He didn't deserve that sort of steadfastness, Bella was not slung together with him a Carlisle and Esme had been. She was free to leave.

This morning he had given into hysterical glee, convincing himself that he would indulge in a short-lived romance before she ultimately left him. It had felt clandestine. If Bella only knew the true depths of his venomous core, she would never stay with him. He had only been able to grant himself pleasure under the auspices that it was short-lived and selfish. Now he looked at her again, the little girl who absorbed every blow that fell upon her, and saw her determination. But he couldn't understand it.

"Why do you want to stay with someone like me? A killer?" He asked the ceiling.

"I'm not entirely sure yet," she confessed. "And I don't know if I'll ever be able to properly articulate it, either. But something tells me you are… _much_ to me." Bella hated how difficult words became when she talked about Edward. She liked who he was with her, and she liked who she was with him—it felt as though, together, they were accomplishing more than they could on their own.

"Let me sing you to sleep," Edward offered after a weighty pause. The air was thick around them. They were perpetually on the brink of devastation. Bella agreed, closing her eyes against raw tears and wordless emotion. It was still early, but she was exhausted.

Edward sang in a quiet, vibrating tenor voice. It began with a long hum, high keening, then he sang of black-eyed angels rowing them away to a place where things were not so fearful. Even though the song and his sweetness lulled her to sleep, there remained an atmosphere of approaching menace and the edge of discord.

* * *

><p>When she woke the next morning, Bella totally freaked out. Edward's face was scrutinizing hers, and before she could remember that she had fallen asleep beside him, she was flailing. Edward's grip was immediate and strong.<p>

"Bella! It's just me."

"Ugh. Edward, that is going to take some getting used to."

"Tell me about it. You smacked me away whenever I tried to touch your face."

"What? I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"You guard your sleep well. I had to dodge out of the way so you wouldn't hurt yourself." Bella was getting up and rummaging through drawers, trying to surreptitiously sneak her under things into a handful of sweatshirts and jeans.

"I've been sleeping alone since I was a baby," she said, "I'll just have to get used to you," she smiled apologetically and then added, "Okay, I'm going to do some human stuff. You can read my bookshelf if you want." It was supposed to be a joke but Edward's eyes lit up at the invitation.

"Thank you," he said, flattered. He stood to peruse her titles but his enthusiasm flabbergasted Bella.

"You mean you thought it was romantic and totally okay to break into my room and watch me sleep, but it would have been 'unchivalrous' to look at my bookshelf?"

"Well of course it sounds insane when you say it like that," he muttered, pulling out a volume of Jane Austen.

"I bet your favorite is _Pride and Prejudice_," he smiled confidently with a winsome wink, remembering her long ago conversation about Mr. Darcy with Jessica.

"That's a classic, but I prefer _Persuasion_. It's all about not being able to tell what the other person is thinking. You might find it interesting." Bella smiled and closed the door. Edward set down the book and listened for the shower to start. He loved a challenge.

He was landing cat-footed on the carpeting under her windowsill just as she was turning off the faucet. He'd run all the way home, changed, and run back. He had bet himself he could make the whole trip before she finished showering, but he had gotten flustered when he was home and couldn't find the cream colored cable-knit sweater he wanted.

When Bella came back into the room, her hair damp and her sleepwear bundled into her arms, Edward was frowning over a flimsy paperback novel. Self-conscious fear gripped Bella's throat, and though she tried to keep her voice calm she could hear the hysteria behind her voice,

"What's that?" She asked in a not-at-all casual voice.

"The cowardly refuge of a cheater," He accused, a grin spreading his face. "Sparknotes? These are for the lazy and uneducated, Bella. What are they doing in your bookshelf?" Bella sighed in relief. She was unsure whether she had thrown out all the boy-band books and fluffy girlie novellas from childhood, but Sparknotes she could deal with.

"Oh. _The Brother's Karamazov_," she laughed, throwing her laundry into the basket, "C'mon, Edward. Nobody gets through that thing. It takes one hundred pages to read about a single day! It's way too slow."

"That's because important stuff is happening during those first days." He returned, following her as she clumped down the stairs into the kitchen. They both knew that Charlie had left early to go fishing. Edward berated her good-naturedly, and she teased him that only someone with an infinite amount of time on their hands could get through a Russian novel. As she brought out the coffee grounds Edward suddenly said,

"Oh! Let me!" Bella froze. He was genuinely eager to try and make her breakfast.

"Edward… when is the last time you cooked?"

"That doesn't matter. You can guide me through it." He gently moved her out of the way, taking the can of coffee from her hands and reading the instructions quickly.

Bella sat on the kitchen counter, one of the few things she could do without feeling conspicuously fat and overbearing. Her legs were killing her from the previous day's walk, and it was easier to lift herself up than set herself down. She guided Edward through the coffee-making process, calling him "lab partner" the whole time. It was nice feeling happy. They pretended they were normal for the morning.

For Bella, who eyeballed everything and prepared her meals with slapdashery, Edward took infuriatingly long to cook. But he seemed intrigued by the coffee. He insisted on making a full pot and poured himself a mugful.

Bella drank her coffee black. Glancing at her Edward did the same and then made a face.

"Tastes like hot mud."

"Yeah," she smiled, "it tastes that way to me, too." Edward stared, appalled and working his face into greater contortions of indignation. Bella laughed, "What? It has a nice kick. I added in an extra scoop when you weren't looking."

"I know," Edward smiled. He liked the warmth of it and finished his mug, making faces the whole time. Vampires don't really have digestive systems, so he would end up regurgitating the stuff later, but for now the warmth was welcome.

"If being a vampire means everything tastes like strong coffee," Bella mused, it doesn't sound that bad to me."

"Bella…" Edward said, his voice changed from the mirth of the previous moment. He didn't want her to take his curse lightly. She recognized that she had spoiled the moment and switched subjects.

"So where did your clothes come from? Do you have a secret stash hidden by my house?"

"That's a good idea but it would be too much trouble. I just ran home and changed." Bella frowned over her oatmeal.

"Edward, how did you get out of gym class? You could have been a star athlete!"

"We're supposed to be inconspicuous—"

"Fail." Bella giggled into her coffee.

"Inconspicuous," Edward continued in a louder voice, "so I used a _doctor's_ note." He said the phrase triumphantly, then, "What do you mean 'fail'? That isn't even proper English."

"It's commentary," Bella retorted, adding, "and I mean you aren't inconspicuous. Obviously 'vampire' isn't the first thing that comes to mind, but you must know how obsessed everyone at school is with the mysterious inbred Cullens."

"We are not inbred. Vampires are sterile."

"Well, you all live in the same house and hook up indiscriminately," Bella noted, getting up to clean her dishes. Edward watched as she tried to hide the ache in her legs from the previous day's walk. She was stiff.

"It's not indiscriminate!" He protested, "Rosalie is _married_ to Emmett; and Alice to Jasper! Of course they prefer to act as newlyweds, and we can get away with it some places, but the younger we start out in a place—"

"—I know, I know. The longer you can stay. I get it," Bella interrupted again, "but you have to admit it draws attention. As does the fact that you are all gorgeous and mysterious."

"Esme and Alice always want to throw parties, get on the good side of the humans. I mean, townspeople. But we don't really want to socialize. And most people are naturally afraid of us."

"Well I'm not!" Bella said triumphant, whipping around with a smile, "So let's bring the human over to meet the parents!"

"First you have to promise me something." Edward's voice was serious. "Promise me you'll tell Charlie that we're dating." The word still sounded strange to Bella, but she reluctantly agreed, "Only if you'll be here when I tell him," She amended.

"I'll be right here." He assured her. Bella fidgeted with her shirt, it wasn't nearly as flattering as the one Alice gave her, but it was the best she could come up with: a plaid button-down with pearl buttons. The sleeves were too short. Edward noticed her fidgeting and said,

"You look wonderful."

"Not this again," Bella sighed. But Edward took her gently by the shoulders.

"Bella. You are beautiful. On the outside as well as the inside." Bella blushed, having difficulty meeting Edward's eye. "Especially when your skin is that ravishing color," he added with a playful growl, "it makes you all the more tempting."

"Tempting for what?" Bella asked shyly, keenly aware that an extremely good-looking boy with whom she was irrevocably in love was flirting with her. He leaned in and Bella honestly was not sure whether he would kiss her or bite her, but she was glad she had brushed her teeth.

The kiss brushed her lips and then built in pressure. Her nervous fingers twisted into the fabric of Edward's sweater and her already trembling legs gave out. She uttered a cry of surprise but Edward was holding onto her, keeping her steady. She found her attraction to his strength further enervating.

"Yesterday you attack me," he laughingly against her cheek, his lips brushing her ear, "and today you nearly collapse. Maybe I should stop kissing you."

"Don't you dare," Bella breathed heavily, pulling Edward in again. All her meekness was gone. Though her legs trembled and threatened to give out again, she was clawing at Edward, avaricious for his kisses. Her hands moved to his back, slipping under the shirt to press into the cool marble of his skin. But Edward's hands found her own, stopping her. He pulled away,

"No," He gasped. He looked dizzy, too. Was he about to vamp?

"I wasn't going to do anything bad," Bella said, though she wasn't ever really sure what she was doing when she was kissing Edward.

"We shouldn't… I can't," Edward breathed heavily, grabbing a fistful of his unruly hair. Bella was sure that it couldn't naturally look that sexy and casual; but nothing about Edward was natural.

"You can't kiss me?" Bella asked, knowing that wasn't the problem.

"You mean to tempt me?" His eyes were growing dark but there was a half-menacing half-playful edge to his voice. Bella felt electric, powerful, and thrilled.

"Why do you resist me?" She returned breathlessly. She wasn't entirely sure what she was inviting in and she felt reckless.

Edward was kissing her again, his momentum pushing her backwards until she was against the kitchen counter. There was an urgency to his mouth, a fierceness that she tried to match, but she could barely keep up. His hands were on her hips, then, and he effortlessly lifted her onto the counter so she wouldn't have to rely on her trembling legs. Automatically, Bella's legs locked around Edward. It was such an easy, natural motion that it almost frightened her. Almost.

She held on tightly, as though they were running through the woods again. She worked a hand into his hair, letting her fingers tangle in the thicket. Then she felt his hand on the back of her head, twisting into her hair, arching her neck back, his lips smearing from her mouth towards her jawline. She uttered a light gasp and closed her eyes.

A sort of growl came out of Edward's throat and he pulled away, but Bella resisted. He could have escaped if he wanted to but he let her stop him. He was panting, his hand still twisted into her dark brown hair, his eyes were wild. Bella looked much the same, gripping onto him as though her life depended on it. They stared each other down. Finally, Edward said, anger in his voice,

"You didn't try to stop me."

"I didn't want you to stop." Bella was rushing with blood, adrenaline, and various potent hormones. But she spoke clearly and kept her eyes on Edward.

"I was going for your throat." He threatened.

"Do you want me to go for yours?" She offered, and the coyness in her voice surprised her. She didn't know she could sound like that. Edward broke their stare-off first. He let go of her hair, and Bella realized she had liked the feeling of being caught. She was learning quite a lot about herself. Reluctantly she unwound herself from him.

"Why do I have to be the adult?" He asked, irritated, "Why do I have to be the responsible one?"

"I don't know what you think you are stopping, Edward, but you make me feel like I'm the predator." Bella said. As she hopped off the kitchen counter she lost her balance and he steadied her. The feel of his sure hand send hot blood rushing around Bella and Edward turned away angrily, letting out a shout of frustration.

"Bella! I could have bitten you!"

"Or given me a hickey. Edward, if you were going to kill me you would have done it long ago."

"You can't know that!" Bella decided to drop it for now, Edward was getting too worked up and she didn't want to ruin the day.

"Fine." She acquiesced, shaking out her hair from the tangle he'd put it in, "I won't push it."

They were quiet.

Edward helped her with her shoes despite her protestations, but Bella was sore enough to eventually let him tie the laces. She popped some ibuprofen before they ambled into the truck.

_**Author's Note:** Next chapter is Meet the Family! I am struggling with two different versions of this coming chapter. Let me know what you think of the foundation B&E are building. Jasper is my favorite character and I'm tempted to give him a larger role in the coming chapter, but it will affect the canon more. Please leave opinions! Thanks for reading, guys! I am so honored to have so many hits :) By the way, the lullaby that I have Edward sing is actually Pyramid Song by Radiohead. Any fans?_


	17. Meet the Parents

_**Author's Note:** Minor change for those of you who might have noticed! I confused empathy and sympathy (doh!) and got them correct in this version :)_

_-A_

The drive was longer than she had expected, and as they wound up a three-mile long driveway to the secluded house Bella let out an exclamation of surprise. The house was gorgeous and modern, and most of the walls were glass. Esme, who was an architect and artist, had designed the structure. The Cullens lived outside of Forks, higher up in the mountains where sunlight could break through the cloud cover and Edward's skin dappled in streaks as the clouds moved. Bella steeled herself: they would all look like that.

"You are nervous for all the wrong reasons," Edward muttered, helping her out of the car. She was too stiff to refuse the courteous act.

"They're all vegetarians. Why should I be scared?"

"Well, Jasper is still struggling," Edward reminded her. "He's been difficult."

"But Alice can tell if something will go wrong, right? So the only thing I have to worry about is whether they'll like me or not." Edward sighed dramatically. He was simultaneously exasperated and charmed by her fearlessness. He lightly touched the small of her back as he led her up the steps and into the house. Before Bella the last time he had willingly, happily touched a human was when he was preying upon them. He felt gluttonous to want more of her, ashamed that the nearness of her dancing cells weren't enough to satisfy him. He forcefully pushed away the gasping memory of her white throat under his lips.

Alice, with Esme's help, had arranged the vampires in pairs beside the grand piano in the living room. Carlisle drew his own joy from that of others, and watching his wife and youngest daughter flit about their house made him swell with pride. Light streamed in from the windows, striking bejeweled patterns on the family's skin and reflecting onto the walls and floor. They were all so comely, so well put-together, that when Bella saw them she immediately felt out of place. She noticed Jasper whisper something to Alice, and she felt more self-conscious. Rosalie and Emmett were brutally intimidating, she with her cutting beauty and he with his preternatural virility. She saw them at school, and yet it felt as though she had never seen them before now. Alice made a move towards Bella but Carlisle spoke first.

"You are very welcome here, Bella. I believe you know most of us already but introductions can't hurt." He stepped forward with Esme, who had a high forehead and sweet, doll-like features. She had the sort of curly hair that straight-haired people dreamed of and curly-haired people, like Bella, would actually kill for. Her expression was as warm as Carlisle's and her warmth, despite the livid skin, relaxed Bella. Even at her happiest, Renee had never been the sort of maternal shelter that Esme seemed to offer. She could imagine herself curling into Esme's arms, protected and happy. Carlisle, the handsome doctor, ignited an apparently latent Electra complex within Bella. She pushed this far away and felt awful for all the bad thoughts she had ever entertained toward him.

They shook hands and Carlisle stepped aside to introduce all his adopted, glamorous children. Rosalie, the "eldest" flared her beauty with the libidinous snarl of a super model. Bella admired her hostility: it was bizarrely becoming. Emmett rolled his shoulders back, somehow widening his vast expanse and flashing a fox-grin. He looked like every popular boy who had ever laughed at Bella, and she felt a visceral fear of him until he slapped Rosalie on the back and laughed,

"She's not so scary, is she, baby?" Rosalie turned murderous, which was even more fetching. Bella guessed this must be some sort of vampire power, because even she felt attracted to Rosalie's sexual violence. The furious blonde gracefully excused herself from the room and Emmett followed with a friendly wink to Bella. _He doesn't seem so bad_, she thought to herself.

Jasper was handsome and stiff, formal and crisp. She wished he would blink. He stepped backwards rather than forwards when Carlisle introduced him.

When he reached Alice, she bounded forward and hugged Bella again. This time taking the vulnerable ribs into account.

"Thank you for the shirt," Bella remembered, "I wore it yesterday. It was lovely, where did you get it?"

"I made it!" Alice laughed. She was the only one who seemed genuinely young. "Gosh, you do smell good," she added, her face turning curious. She leaned in for another sniff and Edward drew Bella closer to him.

"I thought I might show Bella the house," he interrupted. Edward turned her toward the stairs, but Rosalie was blocking the way.

"No," she said. "You can't just bring her here and then act like nothing's wrong."

"Rose…" Edward warned. Bella got the distinct feeling that conversations were going on behind her back and her insecurity renewed. Carlisle, the peacemaker, appeared between Edward and Rosalie, who were staring each other down.

"She's right," he said, "we cannot pretend that this isn't what it is. It is best if we talk about what you and Bella are doing by… being together." Edward turned to survey his family, prettily aligned in the sun. He didn't want to do this but he looked to his new partner and she nodded. It would be okay.

"Only address me aloud," Edward reminded them.

"I think we should all sit down," Carlisle said genially, "to make Bella more comfortable." Bella quickly felt at ease and then, more rapidly, she felt almost drugged.

"Lay off, Jasper," Edward added. Of the magical trio only Edward's power was blocked by Bella's special brain. Jasper held up his hands defensively, saying nothing and Bella's attention sharpened suddenly. She didn't understand what Jasper had done and couldn't remember how Edward had described his brother's powers. She look curiously at this quiet and seemingly timid vampire and caught herself imagining him with a small, clipped mustache. He already looked anachronistic, even though his fitted vest and tailored jeans were obviously of modern fashion. Yet even among his supernatural family Jasper was out of place, especially with the eager and pert figure of Alice at his side.

Emmett appeared out of nowhere, which was like a surprise elephant. He and Rosalie took seats in the sunlight, look godly and regal. What ease Bella had felt rapidly dissipated in their awesome presence, but she had to be strong. She looked to Carlisle and Esme, a more comforting audience.

"I am honored," Bella began with all eyes on her, "to be in the presence of such an illustrious family. You have trusted me, largely against your will, with a rare secret. Edward has informed me of the history of vampire-human relationships, and that ours will be unprecedented." Rosalie raised a perfectly lined eyebrow, an invisible wire curling up the side of her lip as well.

"She is eloquent," she said, "for a child."

"I was nervous," Bella gave a blushing smile, "so I memorized a speech."

"Aloud, Alice," Edward ordered.

"I was saying," Alice apologized with a sharp glance at her brother, "this is foolhardy. I love her already and will love her, too. We all will."

Jasper looked at her and whispered something. She lowered her voice to whisper back but Edward cleared his throat. She looked agitated and unwilling to continue.

"She's going to break us," Jasper said for her.

"Is this true, Alice?" Carlisle asked, "Tell us what you have seen."

Alice flashed apologetic eyes at Bella, her Betty-Boop lips pouting attractively, "She is the first human to love a vampire without being tricked," she began, reluctant to reveal her vision,

"Look at Edward. He's woken up. He's acting… boyish. She is the first to bring out our own humanity, to remind us of what we once were. I don't feel it yet but in time she will affect us all, though none as strongly as Edward. We will love her, open ourselves to her, and watch her die. She will give us joy, only to take it away again."

"That is what it means to be a human!" Bella interrupted. All the caramel eyes fell on her again, but she had to fight for Edward. "I cannot say that I am sorry to teach you that lesson," she said, squeezing Edward's hand in her own, "Part of love is letting yourself be wounded."

"Isabella, we have not been _wounded_," Carlisle reminded her, "for many, many years now. We are afraid, in our own way. Already we are vulnerable, our strength diminished by our oaths of abstention." Bella recalled the anger she had long felt toward Carlisle, how easily she had heaped blame upon him for Edward's self-loathing. All of that was gone in his presence. He was unflaggingly honest and graceful in his demeanor. She didn't even mind when he called her Isabella, it felt exotic and beautiful in his cadence.

"Why do you protect us?" She asked, surprised at how vocal she was in this meeting, "Edward told me that you envy the humans."

"We do," Rosalie said betraying a sadness that brought Bella up short. She had thought the blonde vixen was unfeeling. Rosalie looked away, her face impassive. Emmett's hand was in her lap and Bella noticed that Rosalie was piercing her nails into the flesh of his palm, yet he only kissed her forehead, letting her harm him.

"I have to speak," Edward said. "Yes, Bella has changed me, woken me up. With Bella I've felt something new. Many new things. For example, after relating my full history, unguarded, to Bella, I felt a pain here," he tapped on his chest, "it was terrifying. I felt something similar, fleetingly, when I saw Bella killed by that car. It motivated me to intervene. But this was heartache. I lay myself before her, let myself be judged by her scrutiny, and though I wanted her reproach, I also feared it." The vampires were utterly still, but Bella could not take her eyes from Emmett's hand with Rosalie's nails embedded in the bloodless skin.

"We were all wrong," Edward continued quietly, "A broken heart is not poignant or romantic. It is awful and debilitating. I feared her rejection," he looked at Bella as he spoke and she met his bright, uncrying eyes, "I feared it worse than death, which I have previously welcomed." His eyes turned back to the family tableau,

"But she did not reject me," he gave an incredulous laugh, "She refused to condemn me. And then," he paused, listening to the minds around him, anticipatory and waiting, "then I felt…" he closed his eyes, "ecstasy." Jasper shifted uncomfortably.

Carlisle asked, "Ecstasy?"

"I felt light and sweet, sure and happy. It was not the inebriation Jasper can give us, nor the satiation of human blood. It was the light of God, allowed to shine on me as well, if only briefly."

"We are exempt from that," Carlisle murmured to himself. Bella made as if to protest but Jasper interrupted her, addressing Edward.

"What happens when you kill her?" he asked.

"I will not," Edward replied, surprising Bella with his surety. Was he saying it for himself as well as the others? Only this morning he had been unsure, afraid and anxious. She tried to meet his eyes with a question but he was looking to Alice who gave a helpless shake of her head,

"I am bewildered by the future. I see only that she is love and heartache in one. I cannot see why."

"Bella is right," Esme spoke suddenly. For reasons Bella didn't understand, Esme was addressing Rosalie, "that is the point of being human. If she can grant us the singular experience of human endearment, then heartache is the just payment. I accept her."

There was a stunning silence. Bella realized she was the only one breathing and her breath sounded loud in her ears. Edward gave Alice a sharp look and she nodded her head, remembering to speak aloud,

"I agree. Of course I agree," She smiled at Bella with a love that seemed impossible given how little they knew each other. Bella felt surreal and disjointed. It was difficult enough to reconcile her fast romance with Edward and the sudden rush of love she felt for him. Now she was asking a whole family to adopt her as well. And they were.

Carlisle gave his own approval, though he seemed to be sharing a second conversation with Edward at the same time. He was confused by and curious about the ecstasy Edward said he had felt; the Godly presence when Bella accepted him. Emmett was grinning wolfishly and he turned to Rosalie and said,

"C'mon, babe. Alice said it was _foolhardy_ to fight it." There were no marks on his hand, as though Bella had imagined the cutting nails. Rosalie crossed her arms and slit her eyes at her husband before she gave a barely perceptible nod. Then she muttered,

"Alice must be on the fritz." Bella smiled at Rosalie's reluctance. Maybe there was more to the pretty beauty than she had thought. The attention fell to Jasper.

"I want to love you," he said and Bella felt a wild thrill ripple her body, "for Alice's sake. I still don't like the idea, but I can feel you both and Edward is speaking truth. What little I felt of his memory, that ecstasy he spoke of… I cannot recreate that. And the girl," he looked at her and apologized, "I mean Bella, you are honest. You are not infatuated by his charms or dazed by his cunning. You love him as we do, but better. I will accept you."

She had never heard him say more than a few words at a time and was surprised to find that he had a warm-sugar Southern drawl. Bella held back tears of appreciation. Alice stood and with the hopeful eyes of a puppy she held out her arms. Bella also stood and accepted the embrace.

"You smell like a newborn baby," Alice whispered. She quickly broke from the embrace and rushed to Jasper, who folded her into his arms and stayed back from Bella. He gave a friendly nod and she nodded back, accepting his distance and enigma. Carlisle came next and she expected another firm and paternal handshake, but he also hugged her, and her body flooded with a sad awareness that he was the protective father she had yearned for in childhood. A figure Charlie had failed to be.

She trembled slightly. Jasper would explain her reaction to Carlisle later, in private. Esme was effusive and delicate, cloaking Bella in the wings of a mother hen.

"I accept you," she repeated, "I accept you." Bella's crying increased. But Emmett lifted her huge body into his arms and laughed,

"You'll be fun," he boomed, "I can tell." Bella hiccuped a laugh and thanked him as he set her back down on wobbly legs.

Finally Rosalie, who had seemed so cold, wrapped Bella into a frigid vice grip. She gave a jerk and Bella realized it was an empty sob, tears were a catharsis unavailable to vampires.

"I'll kill you if you hurt him," she whispered, "But you'll never hurt me. You can't…" Edward pulled Rosalie back and hugged her, understanding her better than Bella could. She watched as he muttered secret words to his older sister before handing her off to Emmett. Bella watched the beautiful couple kiss tenderly, and then Alice put her hand on Rosalie, who seemed to be taking this the hardest. Rosalie gave a humorless laugh and said,

"Damn you, Alice." The sisters and brothers left the room, Rosalie smoothing her un-mussed hair and collecting her composure.

Bella had so many questions, so much more to ask, but she felt dizzy. Carlisle and Esme excused themselves, leaving Bella and Edward alone in the light of the living room.

"What's going on?" She asked, wary to be kind to Edward. Despite her own emotional exhaustion Edward felt delicate to her, especially after seeing someone like Rosalie crack.

"It's not your fault," he said, "you didn't know it at the time, but you offered Rosalie the single greatest thing she could ever want: to be human again. She would give anything to reverse what has been done to her. The only thing she wants more than that is a child. You smell like that to her."

"I still don't understand," Bella apologized, feeling stupid.

"They're being ridiculous," he sighed, "This morning they all insisted that I would break your heart, that vampires were too stony to experience or return human love. Now it's the complete opposite: they are afraid you will break me. We are all going to fall in love with you, painfully re-growing hearts that will ultimately break. You are bittersweet to us, Bella."

"What were their thoughts?" She realized he could give her accurate commentary. The leather couch was so warm and the sunlight felt so good on her face, but she wanted to hear what he would say.

"To Carlisle, you are redemption. To Esme, resurrection. To Emmett and Rosalie you are the promise of a growing family. To Alice you are acceptance. Only Jasper is still keeping his distance. You tempt us, Bella, but that is also the quality which allows us to love you."

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When Bella woke up she saw two brown eyes staring warmly from a radiating face. She had not realized she'd fallen asleep and she reached out to touch the light, as reality come back to her slowly. The figure moved away, dodging her touch.

"It's me," the voice said, surprising her. It wasn't Edward but Jasper. She sat up, confused.

"Edward and Alice are talking with Carlisle in the study," he explained. She nodded dumbly, feeling some of the trepidation humans are supposed to feel around vampires.

She caught a glint of something different about his skin along his arms, but when she looked she couldn't see anything. Still, whenever she turned back to his face, something different would glimmer in the corner of her eye and she would just miss it.

"Edward has woken up since he's found you." He said, his eyes fixed on her. Bella felt bleary and hot from the sun. She rubbed her eyes and looked around, catching a glimpse of Rosalie watching from around a corner. Edward had mentioned a few times how much he liked watching her go where he could not, maybe the other vampires felt the same romance toward sleep.

"Does it ever bother you that you can't sleep?" She found herself asking, making small talk with the glittering vampire.

"No, I am never weary." Jasper paused before adding, "You know that Edward is Sympathy with his mind-reading, but I am his twin, Empathy, and unlike him my powers work on you. I saw… I can feel what you are to each other."

"Is that why you joined Carlisle?" Bella had wondered about this before, "Because of…empathy?" Jasper's eyes magnetized to hers and she could not pull them away.

"Edward has told you of his murders, but I slaughtered. I spent the beginning of my second life feeling every death I enacted. The venom is searing and I re-lived the agony every time. I have lived many, many deaths." Bella wanted to pull her eyes away but she was unable to. She made a sound of sorrow, meek and whimpering.

"But it isn't as accursed as it sounds," he said, softening with a smile. Bella found herself released and able to blink again. Her face was hot from the sunlight. Jasper noted this and placed his cool hand against her cheek. "Edward says that your smell awakens memories in him. You even stirred something long-lost in Alice. But I do not have the same reaction."

His chill was soothing against her skin and his eyes gentle as he spoke, "To me, you smell beautiful. Like a fine thing wanting to be appreciated. A sticky bowl of ice cream on the porch, just beginning to melt." He touched her forehead where a dull headache was beginning from the heat of the room—and his touch instantly dissipated the pain, "Empathy means that your pleasure is my pleasure. You want to be known, appreciated, savored. I understand that. I can give you that."

This was how it felt to be captured in a velvet net.

"No, thank you," Bella whispered hoarsely. Her throat was dry and she wasn't sure what she was refusing, but she was sure that she had to say no. Jasper smiled and withdrew his hand.

"Isabella Swan," he said with great formality, "you passed the test. I accept you, and I will protect you like a sister. Even from myself."

He left, walking past Alice who was holding two glasses of water. Rosalie was nowhere to be found. Jasper paused and something electric passed between him and Alice, a fight of some kind. It took only a few seconds and then he was gone and Alice was bringing Bella water.

"Drink all the water," She commanded. "I apologize for my husband," she was shaking her head, "He's a tactical man. He and Rosalie…" She sighed in exasperation. "I'm going to kill Rose… It's okay, just drink the water."

Edward was in the doorway, hesitating between staying or hunting down Jasper. Alice turned around and grabbed at Edward's mind with her own, pushing images of security and safety onto his brain. Jasper was harmless if controlled. Rosalie had been afraid, but never put Bella in danger. _It's okay_, she pushed against his mind, _It's okay_.

Bella watched the silent exchange, unable to guess at what was transpiring. Edward's eyes were angry and bright, his lips pulled back into a snarl. Alice faced him bravely, a young wife protecting her husband. The room felt electric and dangerous, reminding Bella of the storm Edward could work up. This was the life she had chosen.

"I can forgive Jasper," Edward said, having already stolen into his brother's thoughts and cleaned out the secrets, "But if you hold her down I'll cut off all Rosalie's hair."

Alice grinned, running her fingers through her short black hair, "Barely sounds like a punishment to me. She's due for a fashion update." They nodded to each other, the tension dissipating, and Edward said to Bella,

"C'mon, I'll show you my room."

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"Jasper's a good guy. Sometimes," Edward apologized while leading her up the slow-winding stairs. Bella had passed the test, she wouldn't give in to Jasper's seduction; still, Edward didn't want his family experimenting on his beloved.

"Buy you're still the bad guy?" Bella teased lightly, forcing her stiff legs to bend. Edward was too busy thinking about ways to dismember Rosalie and he didn't respond.

"What did Rosalie have to do with… whatever just happened?" She asked.

Edward's arm held steady, giving Bella support while she hobbled up the wooden steps. He looked forward, his face blank.

"Jasper is a master manipulator, but Rosalie set him loose, to test you. She insists that she just wanted to make sure you were 'good enough' for me, but even she knows that is a lie."

"Why did she do it then?"

"Fear," Edward said, "she cannot bear the hope you inspire." He shook his head, angry with his sister, "Until you came along life was black and white with clear delineation. I was miserable and condemned, and for a long time Rosalie was in my company. Now life is blurring for everyone except Jasper, who never really lost that connection to ambiguity.

"Rosalie convinced him that he could get you to subvert me. He was cynical, guessing your love was a simple manipulation of emotions. You impressed Jasper with your fidelity and immediate recoil, and you have devastated Rosalie because now she just might have to respect you."

Bella tried to think back to the strange encounter, trying to digest how much danger she had been in. But it was already fuzzy in her memory. She could only remember phrases: _sticky bowl of ice cream_, and _savor_. There had definitely been sexual implications, and for someone whose own pleasure is dependent upon their partner's satisfaction, it was tempting. But he had been offering more than that, though she could not yet articulate it. They passed another flight of stairs in silence before finally arriving at the third floor.

"I see you are a religious family," she offered, hoping to abandon the death that seemed to always trail their happiness. At the top of the stairs was an enormous wooden cross propped artistically by a window. It had a rough-hewn look to it, as though it were very old.

"That's from the mid-seventeenth century. It's a sentimental artifact from Carlisle's childhood. His father carved it." He added flippantly.

_Right_, Bella remembered, _because Dr. Cullen is an antique._ She kept forgetting how old these vampires were when their faces remained so young. Three hundred years was incomprehensible to her seventeen-year-old brain.

Edward was leading her down a corridor, the left side of which was solid glass. Bella stared at the wet leaves just beyond the windows and the occasional shaft of light that would glint against Edward's skin, not paying attention as he noted the paintings that Esme had arranged along the wall. An alarming thought suddenly occurred to Bella,

"Do you have a bathroom?"

"Do you need one?" Edward returned casually.

"Not right now," She felt shy and childish. Edward laughed,

"Of course we have a bathroom, we aren't barbarians. We use it mainly for preening, though. I like hot baths sometimes." He added. Bella was curious about the hygiene requirements for vampires but they were reaching a door that appeared important to Edward. They hadn't yet broken free of the episode in the living room.

"I'm sorry to upset your family and make Jasper use his magical powers for the wrong reasons." She whispered.

"This is the bittersweet life Alice anticipated," Edward shrugged, "And it isn't magic," he sighed.

"Yeah, well neither was your meadow," Bella reminded him. His body, which she realized had been tensed, relaxed with a grin. She had once cataloged his rare smiles, but now they were too numerous to count. He really had woken up. He kissed the crown of her head and then regarded the door ahead of them.

"This," he began sheepishly, "is my bedroom."

"Oh, I already saw it." Bella shrugged.

"What?" Edward was alarmed.

"Yeah, I brought a ladder and let myself in. Poked around and re-arranged all your CDs and stuff. You know, the usual."

Edward laughed much louder than Bella had anticipated, and he continued laughing for another minute before Bella could get him to calm down.

"I'm sorry," he smiled, "it's just been so long since anyone has been able to tell me a joke. That was fantastic, thank you."

He opened the door and the room Bella saw was full of sunlight. It was a little messy, which made her feel better, and the walls were utilitarian. Every inch of shelving space was claimed by books, music, or both. He had floor-length windows without curtains and the only comfortable-looking objects in the room were a psychiatrist's couch, an armchair, and his desk chair which oddly resembled a kingly throne.

"No bed?" She asked before she could realize her unintended implications.

"I guess I could read or study on one of those for a change." He smiled, graciously ignoring her faux pas.

"Play me some music, Edward." He lit up at the request, glad to acquiesce.

He played her a snappy blues song about a walking stick, he played an old English ballad covered by an experimental American rock band, he played a pop song that was so trendy it made Bella ripple with laughter. He played a song that was half-silence, with only the sound of peeper toads and distorted guitar making an entrance for the first five minutes. He played a modern rock song that had such a thumping godzilla beat Bella forced him to dance with her. They jumped around the room, pretending they were normal kids for awhile, laughing and putting the song on endless repeat until Bella was winded and flushed.

He played a song about freckles and kissing. And they did. It was tentative and sweet, careful and searching. It felt new and delicate, utterly different from the fierce passion of that morning. Abruptly he pulled back from the chaste gesture and with a devilish smile he said, "Thunder!" to which the entire Cullen house echoed back, "THUNDER!"

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"What is so special about thunder?" Bella asked as Edward pulled her to her truck, insisting they drive home to get her some food, tell Charlie they were dating, and get permission for her to stay for "dinner".

The answer surprised her so badly that Edward had to take over driving. They were halfway back to the Swan house when Bella finally got a hold of herself. Edward didn't see what was so funny but she shook with laugher and squealed,

"Vampire baseball? Really? Are you serious?" and then erupted into new peals. Finally, with tears in her eyes, she said,

"Oh, Edward. Thank you. Thank you for being so utterly uncool. It makes me feel a lot better about myself."

"How is baseball uncool? It is the quintessential American pastime!" He sounded genuinely hurt.

"I thought vampires were supposed to be dark and brooding, tormented souls." She teased.

"I am tormented!" he protested, "But I used to be human, you know. And we like to keep up some old habits." He sniffed, "Besides, we're really good at baseball."

"Isn't it supposed to be a game of strategy?" Bella asked, muffling further giggles, "How is that possible if Alice can tell who is going to win and you can read minds?"

"We play more for the physical rigor of it than the strategy," Edward confessed. Then something dawned on him,

"Bella! Do you know how to play chess?" Bella's giggling fit was stopped short.

"A little, but I haven't played in a long time—"

Edward was cheering and praising God, rapping his hands in a tattoo along the roof of the truck cab. He reached over and squeezed Bella's knee gently, careful not to break anything,

"Bella it has been eighty years since I have played a real game of chess. Please, please say you will play with me sometime."

"I'm not very good," she blushed.

"I'll go easy on you," he promised before crowing again. Then Bella burst back into laughter and the two of them arrived at the Swan house glowing and teasing each other. Charlie hadn't seen Bella that happy in awhile, and it softened him for what he knew was coming. Bella walked into the house, stifling giggles, and found Charlie in the kitchen, gutting the fish from his trip that morning with Harry Clearwater.

"Hey, Dad!" Bella chirped. Edward successfully put on a more serious face and fell behind Bella.

"You been out with Edward?" Charlie asked, putting down the boning knife and wiping his hands on a towel.

"Yeah, actually we just came home to grab some stuff. But the Cullens invited me over to see their family play a little baseball."

Charlie let this sink in. He looked at his daughter and the pale boy behind her.

"You kids up to something? You seem to be spending a lot of time together recently."

"Well," Bella was unsure how this conversation was supposed to happen, "we are, sort of, dating."

Charlie crossed his arms and nodded. It was always difficult to read him. Even at home he had that cop-face. Edward wondered that his expression could be as cloudy as his brain.

"Hmmm…" Charlie's mustache hummed. Edward took three easy steps across the kitchen, hand outstretched, to better introduce himself.

"That's right, sir. I'm very taken with your daughter."

Charlie shook his hand and Bella smiled when she caught the flash of surprise in his eyes at Edward's firm grip. Charlie liked that kind of thing.

"Baseball, huh?" He asked, re-crossing his arms.

"It's a family tradition, and we live higher up so we can play in almost any weather without getting much rain." Edward explained genially.

"Oh." Charlie was a man of very few words. "Well, Edward. Your father is a well-respected man in Forks. I hope he's taught you well."

Edward smiled without showing his teeth, "He certainly has. Don't worry, Chief Swan, I'll take good care of Bella." Bella was throwing together a sandwich and hurriedly packing nuts and an apple, but she looked up to see the two pairs of eyes land on her.

"I think I raised my Bella to take care of herself, Ed." Charlie said.

"Of course," Edward responded, not correcting the nickname.

"Dad, I'll be fine. I'll bring a rain coat just in case."

"I thought you didn't like baseball, Bells," Charlie said, turning away from Edward and putting his attention back on his fish.

"I don't," Bella confessed, "but it's a nice way to meet all the Cullens. I'll just be watching," she added. She'd packed her lunch and motioned for Edward to head towards the door.

"Renee will be thrilled," Charlie muttered to himself.

"I'll tell her later. Love you, Dad." Bella waved goodbye as she grabbed a raincoat.

"Be back by nine!" he yelled after her halfheartedly


	18. The Plot arrives to kill Bella

**_Author's Note:_**_ The song that disturbs Bella is "Love, Love, Love" by the Mountain Goats._**  
><strong>

**Part the seventh: Morta bella**

"Yikes." Edward muttered when they were back in the truck.

"What was he thinking?" Bella asked. She broke out her wrapped sandwich, enjoying the multi-seed bread. Edward drove casually, using one hand to gesticulate in the air.

"I caught his emotions and certain images. From what I could gather, he was making a lot of correlations between you and Renee, and me and Phil. I wish you had told me that Phil plays baseball; I thought I was ingratiating myself. Now it just appears that I'm a younger version of the man who married his wife."

"Yeah, Renee and Phil travel because of his job. That's why I left. I just couldn't get with the party." Bella sighed, "So Charlie thinks you're going to take me away from Forks now? Renee didn't even meet Phil until a few years ago. It isn't like he stole her away."

"You know how your father feels about her," Edward said. "It'll be okay, Bella. He loves you and trusts you. He is not fond of his daughter's first boyfriend, that is understandable."

With his free hand Edward pulled a CD out of his jacket pocket.

"Now where were we?" He asked, popping the CD into the player. He kept his eyes on the road, deftly shuffling through the tracks.

"It's a miracle you have a CD player in this thing."

"You should thank Jacob Black for it," Bella said, moving on to her almonds and apple, "this truck is his baby."

Edward kept his thoughts concerning the Blacks to himself, but he only answered with a disinterested "Hmm." Then the song began, the one about kissing and freckles, but they couldn't kiss while he was driving. A strange folk song followed which was about beauty and people's crippled attempts at understanding love. Bella asked him to repeat it.

The song disturbed her. It was a pretty song about love, but the lyrics were confused. Violence appeared to be conflated with beauty and it belied the sweet tenor of the singer. She couldn't understand what the song meant and it was awful but attractive.

He said he had chosen the song because of theological implications. He said that it was a song which he and Carlisle had spent long nights discussing. He said that it was interesting to them on an intellectual level. Bella could only listen, feeling her stomach tighten as the song progressed. Something was wrong, distorted, but it was just out of Bella's grasp to articulate. Finally they were in the Cullen driveway, beside a Jeep that was waiting for them.

"Here we go!" Edward said, rubbing his hands together energetically. He took the CD with him and helped Bella into the Jeep. She was immediately flustered by the medusa of seat belts known as the harness.

"What are we doing, going on a roller coaster ride?" She muttered.

"Something similar. This will get us most of the way." He was buckling her straps and loosening the web clamps. Bella felt a rush of embarrassment as Edward loosened the harness to fit her girth, but the heat of shame mingled with that of attraction for his nearness.

"What do you mean," she tried to clear her head, "by _most of the way_?" She didn't like the sound of this.

"I can take you the rest, don't worry. Just a short run." He grinned devilishly and slammed onto the gas, steering the Jeep into the woods. Edward tried to talk to her about the song they'd been listening to, saying it was about the fear of God. But Bella couldn't follow his reasoning this time, she could only think of the bittersweet song and the ache that she brought to the Cullens. She felt claustrophobic and scared, and didn't know how to explain any of it to Edward.

She lowered a window and let the air blow cool on her face. Vampire baseball was quickly losing its appeal. The whole weekend had been an uphill battle, a struggle to stay light and sweet. How much longer could they keep up the act?

"Are you feeling okay, little one?" Edward asked, helping her out of the Jeep. It was sweet when he called her little one because, despite her size, she did feel small and protected beside him. He paused, his whole attention on her. This was the moment she needed to ask him to turn back, or why he had played her that song. But he was excited to share his family with her, eager to show how normal the vampires could be, as though he were proving it not only to her but himself. She could not deny him this.

So Bella just nodded slowly, breathing in the wet forest air. Edward gave her a minute before she lifted her arms childishly and he swung her onto his back.

"Focus your eyes on a stationary point, like the horizon or part of me. That will stop you from getting sick." He locked her arms into place under his throat and then bolted forwards. Bella pressed her face alongside his own and tried to see what Edward saw. She tucked her head into his neck, breathing in the comfort of his smell. Cloves and smoke. Spices and fire. She wanted to ask him to keep running, to take her far away so they could be alone and talk about the dark, scary implications of their love. She felt false, acting like they were a normal couple, but they were already entering the field, and as he let her down slowly she noticed her legs weren't as sore as they had been.

* * *

><p>When she looked at Edward's family her melancholy lifted. They had matching striped jerseys. They were the old-fashioned kind with first names on the back and knee-high woolen socks. <em>No way<em>, she laughed to herself.

Carlisle handed a uniform to Edward who darted into the woods and returned fully changed. Alice and Esme came over to Bella, looking charming in their caps.

"I understand you are familiar with baseball," Esme said, "Do you want to make the calls?"

"No, thank you. I don't know home rules yet, and I'm more interested in watching than participating." Bella felt shy. Everyone was pretending Bella wasn't edible and didn't make them feel squirmy.

"I made all the uniforms," Alice informed her proudly.

"Wow, sewing and clairvoyance? You really got the lions' share of powers didn't you?" Bella asked.

"They'll both be to your advantage," Alice waggled an eyebrow, "you'll be needing new clothes if you stick around with us." She smiled mysteriously but Esme was already leading Bella to the best vantage point.

"How do you play with so few people?" Bella asked, relying on politeness to relieve her trepidation. It was difficult not to feel self-conscious around such lovely creatures. Whenever she looked at Esme all she could think of was the mother's expression when she stood and was the first to say _I accept you_.

"You don't need nearly as many when they are all vampires," Jasper answered from afar. It was the first time Bella had seen the perpetually tensed Hale with a genuine smile. He seemed easy, even. He twirled a bat in his hand playfully, performing showy tricks that made Bella smile.

"Wait 'til you see my Alice's pitch. She's a whip, that girl."

Bella saw Rosalie and Emmett deciding which team would go first, gripping the bat and then alternating their hands upwards to see who would get the upper hand. Emmett won and Rosalie's face took on a taunting sneer; she and Emmett had a visible sexual tension that must have made the brother/sister act unbearable.

Carlisle explained the set-up, and Bella noticed that the brass buttons on the collar of his uniform were the same ones on the shirt Alice had made her. She also noticed that they perfectly complemented the Cullen eyes.

"Alice always pitches because she can time the thunder. We have loose rules around here, but the main idea is to just have fun," He turned his attention to his family's horseplay, "And it's one of the few times I can shed my paternal duties and beat the hell out of my kids!"

"You'll never get the hell out of Rosalie!" Emmett roared from infield. Bella laughed and the razzing commenced. Her laugh grew warmer when she realized Edward had been drafted to the girls' team. He was in the outfield chasing Rosalie, apparently forgiving her earlier meddling.

"Ready!" Alice yelled and the family took their places. Jasper was first up to bat, his walk relaxed and a deviant smile on his face, trying to stare Alice down. Bella wondered at their chemistry. The two of them far less vanilla than the Hallmark Cullens.

Bella's mouth dropped open when she saw Alice pitch. It was a beautiful pose: kicking her leg up to bring power into her arm, and then she whipped the ball at Jasper. There was a deafening crack and Bella covered her ears too late, the thunder echoing the noise in a rumble. Jasper was running, but Bella had lost the ball. It had appeared to disintegrate upon contact. Then, she saw Edward jump out of the tree line—he must have run after the ball—and he threw it back at Rosalie who caught it before Jasper could round home.

Bella realized she would have to pay much closer attention to this game. She caught herself cheering and laughing, entirely enthralled in the surreal pastime. Edward was much faster than the others, and he would appear from different parts of the tree line, always retrieving the ball. The one time he caught a ball mid-air, the force of it sent him sailing backwards, but he flipped into a delicate landing.

"Out!" Came Esme's proud voice.

* * *

><p>Abruptly, in a toneless voice Alice said, "Stop." Bella only heard it backwards, reconstructing the sound after she saw its effect on Edward and his family. It was as though Alice had pushed a button on a remote control. The jocular and boisterous family was arrested—it reminded Bella of watching freeze tag in grade school. Only Jasper's immediate presence beside Alice and his rapid whispers alerted Bella that this was no longer a game. Bella realized had a weird, half-fallen grin on her face, and she let it drop completely as Edward ushered her closer to Alice. Jasper was coaxing the images from his wife, his voice steady and practiced. Oddly, it was Jasper's calm that struck dread into Bella.<p>

"Tell us, Alice."

"They changed course. They were leaving but they heard the bats. They want to play."

"How far away are they?" Alice shook her head sadly, blinking her eyes back into focus, "Too close. We only have minutes. We can't hide her or they'll be suspicious and track her anyway."

Esme turned to Edward, she was in charge now, "Edward, are they thirsty?" He listened before answering.

"No," And then he turned to Bella, "This is my fault."

"What? What is happening?" A plot twist had arrived and Bella was chapters behind.

"There have been some nomads passing through. We kept an eye on them and they were about to leave, but now they're coming and they'll know you are a human. They aren't like us, Bella. We're strong, we can protect you, but I've been reckless, I put you in senseless danger." Something was wrong with Edward's voice. The richness of it had faded and it was hollow. The strong man who had stood beside her that morning was fading, returning to his role as angel of death.

"Edward!" She said sharply, turning his face to her, "Stay with me. What can I do? What is going to happen?"

"Let your hair down," Carlisle said stepping in, a hand on Edward's shoulder, drawing him away. "Hide your face and stand behind Emmett."

"That won't work," Rosalie snorted, "We can't hide her."

"Rosalie." Carlisle said her name sharply and she straightened, chastised. Wordless conversations darted around the family. Esme gave Bella a cap and murmured reassuring words that Bella didn't hear. She was staring at Edward, watching him lose himself to reproach. The frail joy they had built together was gone. Only hours earlier they had been laughing, dancing to music, joking about chess. All that was disintegrating. His face was returning to the loathsome and frigid control he had worn months previous.

"Edward," she whispered. But the nomads were coming. Carlisle nodded to Jasper and suddenly Bella felt grotesquely giddy. Jasper was trying to dissipate the fear and nervousness that had developed. Rosalie shouted something about her hair or dirt or some other complaint and Carlisle suggested, loudly, that she head back home with the other girls. They were acting.

Rosalie's delivery was timed just as three barefoot and gorgeous people appeared at the tree line, walking leisurely but with unnatural speed. Two men and a woman. They looked like chic backpackers with distressed jeans and beaded jewelry. The woman had unnaturally red hair that flowed in a thick, curly mane. She was stroking the bicep of one of the men beside her, the other one spearheaded their little coven and introduced himself formally.

"We heard your game and have not played in a very long while. I hope you do not mind the imposition. I am Laurent, and these are Victoria and James. Could you fit three more?"

Laurent had a light French accent, and the other two were taciturn but alert. Bella could not stare without revealing herself from behind the shield of Emmett. But she had noticed Laurent first and his image stayed in her mind as she listened to his melodic voice. It was the fist time she saw a vampire who wasn't pale. He had long dark hair, braided carefully with beads and bones, and his skin was like black clay. He was handsome and reminded her of an old black-and-white photo: unblemished and smooth. She played over the image in her head.

Carlisle was standing apart from the family, closer to the nomads with Jasper and Edward just behind him.

"You're lucky, some of us were just about to leave," he said sociably. "We maintain a permanent residence not far from here, but the men could afford to stay on for awhile longer."

"You have infiltrated the town, then?" Laurent was surprised but their manner seemed casual and friendly. Bella felt the suggested calm that Jasper must have been oozing into the air. Laurent had good manners and spoke well for the other two. Bella tried to remember them: there was something fascinating about the woman besides her glorious hair, but she had only seen them in a glance, distracted by Laurent.

"We are residents for a number of years before returning to a similar circumstance in Alaska." Carlisle said, then, "If you'd rather, we could continue this conversation in our home. You're welcome to clean up and get some rest with us." There was a pause and Bella caught a glimpse of Laurent leaning back on his heels. He appeared to be tempted by the idea. Both he and the others were dirty with debris in their hair. She got a chance to look at the other two vampires: the other male was pale like Edward, but his face was chiseled and Hollywood handsome. She wondered if he, like Rosalie, had been beautiful before becoming a vampire. Her attention, however, was quickly captivated by the female. Her gorgeous red hair waved in cool flames around her pale face, but it was her body that made Bella's breath catch. She was big and busty, with a tapered waist and dangerous curves. Her lips pouted attractively over a dimpled chin, and her shoulders rounded sweetly, giving her body a Jessica Rabbit fullness.

Bella then saw the unnatural burgundy color of their eyes and her admiration disappeared with a shudder. There was no way they would pass for human with demonic eyes like that. Emmett was muttering nonsense as though he were having a conversation with Bella and was trying to edge her away. Carlisle kept the attention of the group eastward, back toward their residence. She pulled her eyes away from the trio and hid behind Emmett again, grateful he was big enough to hide a six-foot woman.

As Laurent was inquiring into Carlisle's hunting range the wind turned. Bella's hair blew in a traitorous whirl, and her cap nearly came off. Simultaneous to that, James stiffened, his attention on Bella. He made a gesture towards her and was instantly blocked by Edward, the smallest male of the coven. James cocked his head, smiling and finding the situation curious.

"You keep a pet?" he asked, his voice the warm, bland tone of a friendly stranger waiting in line. Emmett rolled back his shoulders to emphasize his magnitude. Carlisle and Laurent had stopped.

"She's with us," Carlisle said in a detached voice. Laurent also appeared confused by the situation.

"But she is a human."

"Yes, she is." Carlisle agreed, not offering further information. "Again, you are welcome to stay at our house, but I must ask that you do not hunt on our grounds. We have to keep our profile low."

"Of course. We won't hurt the girl. James, Victoria, let's enjoy a little civilization for the night." James had kept his eyes locked on Edward for the full ten seconds that this exchange took. He gave a glinting half-smile before turning around and announcing,

"Don't worry. We just ate in Seattle anyway." The woman gave a pleasing laugh and then the three nomads, Carlisle, Rosalie and Jasper started to run into the woods.

* * *

><p>Esme was the first to speak, "Edward?"<p>

He was furious and shaking his head, "He wants her. He has no attachment to Laurent and he's feral. He's a tracker and he wants the challenge of a strong coven. She's a bauble to him."

"Get her to the Jeep." Esme said quickly, "Take Alice with you."

"He knows. I gave too much away, he was too quick. He doesn't know about Alice or Jasper, but he knows about me."

_You can hear this, can't you?_ James had guessed with a sneer while staring down Edward. Edward's body language revealed too soon that James had been right. In those final seconds James took psychotic glee in filling his mind with various gory fantasies, watching for Edward's reactions. He was unaware that they were fantasies Edward had once indulged.

The whole family was racing through the woods before she could get a word in; she had been pulled away and slung over Edward's back like a sack. The wind whipped fiercely at her face and she had to bury it in Edward's neck in order to breathe. They were at the Jeep first-even when he was carrying Bella he was still faster than the others.

"What is going on?" She managed to ask while Edward blurred around her.

"We have to get you out of here. I've put you in danger but you'll be fine if we get you south." His voice was too fast and she almost didn't catch what he was saying.

"What do you mean? What is happening?" Edward was moving Bella bodily into the passenger side of the Jeep, buckling her in.

"Our eyes betray us, Bella. We don't feed on human blood, they guessed that. We are a strong group and unusually large. We keep a human. We're just a curio to him, and he wants to force us into a fight. It's not about you, but he is going to track you down and kill you unless we hide you."

Emmett and Alice appeared at the Jeep, the others had returned to the house.

"We're going to take her south," Edward was saying as they loaded into the Jeep and began driving.

"No!" Bella shouted but Edward was talking over her, ignoring her. Bella wrestled with her buckles and started to scream.

"Stop, Bella! You'll hurt yourself!" Edward shouted.

"Take me home! You said he's a tracker, he'll track down and kill Charlie! We have to warn Charlie!"

"She's right," Alice said quietly.

"Shut up, Alice! We can't take her home!" He shook away Alice's imposing thoughts like buzzing gnats.

"Edward!" Emmett's voice was as big as he was, "We have to be reasonable about this. Listen to Alice."

"He'll leave the house and chase her scent right back to Charlie's." Alice was saying quickly.

"Stop it, Alice." Edward warned.

"Listen to me!" Bella shouted, barely able to get her voice in among the powerful cadences of the vampires. "Listen! I can lead him away! I have to lead him away from Charlie!"

"Lead him away?" Emmett asked.

"He would only kill Charlie to get to Bella or to anger us. If Bella makes a scene about leaving, he won't even bother Charlie," Alice confirmed.

"Then you can bring me south or do whatever it is that you want," Bella was crying, "but you can't let him hurt my dad."

"How will she leave Charlie?" Edward asked, seemingly to Alice. There was a pause in the conversation. Bella heard herself holding back gasping sobs. She heard the engine strain to meet Edward's demanding pace, and the cracking sounds of thin branches breaking under the tires or smearing alongside the Jeep.

"It has to be doubly convincing, both to Charlie so he stays home and to James who will be listening," Alice explained. Bella was trying to stop herself from crying so that she could follow their rapid conversation. She saw the grim expression on Edward's mouth.

"Bella, you'll have to leave Charlie. Just like Renee did."

"What?"

"You know what he already thinks of me, you have to prove him right." Edward said firmly. As the idea formed itself in Bella's mind Alice said,

"It would work, but she has to be convincing."

"No!" Bella said. She couldn't play to her father's insecurities, he'd never forgive her.

"Bella, it is the only way to save both of you. I can't think of a better plan right now."

"There has to be a better plan!" Bella protested.

"Edward—" Alice began,

"No," he interrupted venomously, "that is _never_ an option. Bella, we'll be there in minutes to pick up the truck and take you home. We have to have the plan ready. James might still be at the house."

Bella's mind blanked and she only felt fear. She couldn't generate a better plan, she could only see herself breaking her father's heart again and again in a sick loop in her head. She could already hear the words Renee had said when she left him. It was a story Renee had told many times. The idea was poison to her brain, and her cognitive functions seemed to fail. Everything was moving too fast, she couldn't digest the situation.

She hated to feel cornered, but it seemed like the only available option and she agreed to go through with it. When they pulled up to the Cullen's house they were all silent. They would have to put on a minor show for the nomadic vampires left in the house. It didn't take any acting, they just had to remain tense.

"I'm going home." Bella said, angrily breaking free of the Jeep's constrictions.

"Bella—" Edward pleaded.

"No, Edward." She cut him off, slamming the door to her truck and leaving. When she reached the bottom of the mile-long driveway Edward was already there, and he latched himself onto the side of her moving truck, letting himself in.

"James and Victoria are already gone." He informed her. Bella was unsettled by his omniscience as he picked through everyone else's minds. The family organized quickly into strategic defense as though they had practiced these situations before. She had signed onto this. This was what she'd chosen when she had chosen Edward. But for the next moment she could only think of Charlie.

"Laurent is on our side," he continued, "James scares him too much. They heard you, though. James will track your scent rather than your truck so that he can case the house. The female, Victoria, will stand guard by our house to watch our movements." There were too many voices with too much information, and Edward wasn't sure he caught everything. He had already put Bella in James' path; if he had missed any key connections—if Bella died because of his oversight-he would kill himself.

The interior of the pick-up was quiet, neither of the occupants were able to speak. Bella couldn't find tears, and didn't want them. Edward listened for James' taunting voice or Alice's warning cry if there were any changes. The night had gone horribly wrong in such a short period of time. Edward was still wearing his garish jersey. All that Bella could do was choke everything back and get ready for the next part. Bella thought she was driving slowly, but they arrived at her house before she was ready.

It was a blur. She stormed up the steps, Edward leapt through her bedroom window. She was short with Charlie, angry. She slammed doors and started packing. Charlie was outside her bedroom, trying to talk through the plywood door as she and Edward hurriedly packed clothes. His normally placid daughter was suddenly the hormonal teenage mess he'd been warned about.

"What happened? Did he hurt you?" He had been looking for an excuse to dislike the boy.

Bella opened the door and rushed into the bathroom, talking fast, her face contorted.

"He told me he loved me." She kept her eyes away from Charlie "I can't get stuck in Forks. I'll just end up like Mom if I stay."

"I thought you liked him?" Charlie frowned, stepping out of her way as she rushed back into her room. The sight of his distraught daughter was confusing and distressing to Charlie, but he still thought it was a simple break-up. They'd only been together for a day, after all.

"I do like him, that's why I have to leave. I don't want to get tied down in a place like this."

"Honey, it's your first boyfriend—" Charlie began.

"It's not just Edward, Charlie. It's this whole town." She stared at him, feeling the poisonous words creep into her throat. But she could not yet utter them.

"I'll call you from Phoenix. I have to get my head clear," she said flatly, heading for the front door.

"Bella wait!" His voice changed from caring to commanding, "Your mother isn't even in Phoenix. You can't just leave in the middle of the night. Listen to me, I'm your father, damn it!"

"No, you listen to me!" She whirled on him. She was aching and hurting, hating herself but too afraid to fail. Her hysteria lent gravity to her words, "I hate this life with you! I hate this town! Charlie, if I don't get out I will _die_! You are killing me!"

Those were the words her mother had said. _I hate this life with you. You're killing me. _Those were the words Bella couldn't get out of her head and which she choked on, only making them more visceral and realistic.

"You…?" he stepped away, old wounds opening.

"Goodbye, Charlie." Bella said rushing out the front door. She threw her things into the truck and drove off. Edward caught up with her quickly. She was sobbing dangerously, unable to see the road. He was on the driver's door and let himself in, easily moving her aside and pressing his feet on all the right pedals. Bella gave herself over to hysterics and Edward listened, driving back to his house.

She couldn't breathe, she was choking and gasping. Charlie had never told her about what had happened when Renee took Bella and left, but she had seen the house. Nothing had changed, he had never moved on, even after the therapy following the divorce. It was Charlie's deepest wound, the cause of all the stale air in the tiny house. Getting Bella back had been the only thing to dispel some of that misery, and now she'd reversed all the good she had done.

Edward put a hand on her shoulder and it did soothe her a little. He said,

"He'll forgive you."

Bella was trying to keep from hyperventilating, but she couldn't control her lungs. Weird, raw noises came out of her throat and her diaphragm sucked in air at odd intervals. She couldn't form words, and she wished that Edward could read her mind and see the harm she had done. Eventually, the need to communicate won out over histrionics.

"He's not going to hurt himself, is he?" Bella choked through hiccuping sobs.

"No. He'll drink himself to sleep, call Renee in the morning. When he sees that we've left, too, he'll tell himself you ran away with us, and he'll shift his hatred to me." Edward was drawing from both Charlie and Alice's thoughts now.

This did not make Bella feel better. Back at his house, Edward transferred her bags to a tinted car, grabbing a few of her clothes and bringing them inside the house. He kept one arm around Bella, who was trying, unsuccessfully, to calm down.

"Here, these are some of Bella's clothes. Spread her scent. I'm taking her away."

"You can't take her, Edward." Carlisle said softly, "You said James saw how protective you are of her. You have to split up. He'll follow you, guessing you're with her. Jasper and Alice can take Bella. Then Esme and Rosalie can take care of Victoria, and the rest of us will mislead James."

"Where?" Bella asked, controlling her breathing again but still streaming tears.

"Where did you say you were going?" Carlisle's voice was gentle, and Bella could feel something in her relaxing and calming down. The springs in her mechanisms were re-winding and the jarred cogs slipped back into place.

"Phoenix, to my mom."

"Then we'll send Edward to Phoenix as a diversion."

"Shouldn't I go to Phoenix?" Bella asked, her head clearing and her breathing re-regulating itself.

"That's exactly what James will be expecting," Carlisle shook his head.

"No, he won't," Bella swallowed, "if he's as clever as you think, he'll guess that we knew he was at the house, listening. Phoenix will be the last place he'll look."

The vampires exchanged glances and Emmett said, "That sounds about right."

"But please, let Edward come with me." Bella pleaded. Edward took her aside,

"I have to lead James as far from you as possible, Bella."

"What are you going to do if he catches you?" Edward looked to Carlisle and a thought passed between them, Edward sighed,

"We're going to have to kill James. Laurent backs up what I saw: he's feral, unreasonable. He will never stop and he will always be a danger to us. We have to tear him apart and burn the pieces." It was so sudden. James hadn't even done anything to make Bella fear him, but his intentions were clear enough to the family. He had to be dispatched.

_So that's how you kill a vampire_, Bella thought bleakly.

"Will he hurt you?"

"No," Edward said, but she could tell it was a lie. They feared James, even though they far outnumbered him. Bella, seeing their fear, understood that the chiseled young vampire had to be phenomenally cruel to cause such a strong reaction.

"Even if we saved Charlie and me, but you die, it won't be any better!" Bella couldn't hold back a sob.

"He won't hurt me," Edward's voice was reassuring, but Bella couldn't believe him. "I cannot go with you, Bella. Alice can keep tabs on me, don't worry. You have to go. Now."

"Wait." Edward tried to keep his distance from Bella but she broke into him. And there, in front of the family, they kissed. It was a desperate kiss, one that was difficult to watch. They seized each other by the hair, Bella's mouth trembling against his, Edward curled around her protectively. It was a gruesome, wild kiss—one made by two people saying goodbye. The need for air forced Bella to break free, gasping and terrified to let go. Edward smoothed her hair and let himself be pulled away from her. Jasper and Alice took Bella and led her to the car and then they were gone.


	19. The Phoenix Scene

_**Author's Note: **I think perhaps FanFiction deleted this chapter, which is the climax as well as a gore-filled section. I am updating the rating to see if that was the problem. My apologies to those who read through the story only to find the entire Phoenix scene missing. I'm sorry I did not check into it earlier!_

Locked in the tinted car with Alice and Jasper, Bella let exhaustion take over. It was helped along by the drug-like effects of Jasper's presence. She woke only to eat and use gas station restrooms. She lost track of time, and without the help of the sun she couldn't tell how time passed. She only felt weak. Tears streamed from her eyes and she imagined she would die from them, desiccated in the back of an expensive car.

Jasper woke her gently and led her into a hotel with Alice. They holed up in a room, ordering food for Bella and watching her intently. Bella couldn't stand the attention, but neither of the vampires sought distraction. They did not pace. They did not turn on the television. They simply waited. Bella slept.

In periods of lucidity she asked questions. Jasper wouldn't talk to her. He kept his distance most of the time, only staring. But she could get conversation out of Alice.

"Tell me about James," she croaked, her voice shot and her throat dry.

"You don't want to hear that, do you?" Alice asked, disturbed by Bella's curiosity.

"It will help me understand what is going on," Bella insisted flatly. Half of her wanted to gorge on food, but with the vampires watching she couldn't bring herself to binge. She wanted to take up smoking. She wanted to taste alcohol. She wished she had a vice she could turn to. She asked about James to distract herself from the blunt agony that ate ate her edges when she worried about Edward. She needed something sharper, an acute pain that would remove the nauseating ambiguity of ignorance.

Alice's eyes unfocused briefly; she must have been looking at future possibilities. Whatever she saw led her to acquiesce.

"Jasper," Alice said gently, "tell her what you know of James." He nodded, moving from the corner of the room to bring his chair near Bella. Bella lay curled on the bed, disheveled and hollow-eyed. In her mind, she was concave and pale; she avoided mirrors that proved her the opposite: puffy and red.

"When I realized the danger you were in, I paid closer attention to James. Laurent and Edward added to my information: he is about as old as Edward, which means he should know better. His recklessness comes from his ego, though, not youth.

"He's got a flare for the dramatic, which reminds me of Rosalie. But James doesn't seek personal revenge, instead he feels like he is an angel of judgment. Laurent insists that he is intelligent, but all I catch is animal energy. Maybe he is clever, but if he were really smart then he would never take on a coven our size.

"He considers our kind to be like gods, and he is personally offended by our lifestyle and how we treat you. Edward and I felt a kind of recognition when he saw our coven; he had never met such a size as ours, but he must have encountered vampire-human relationships before. Likely, he knew of humans as pets, but he doesn't condone that either. To him, humans are food only.

"As a tracker, he is good at reading people to see when they are lying and recognizing traps. I suppose that is about as clever as he gets."

"Has he ever killed another vampire?" Bella asked bleakly.

"I can't know that," Jasper said softly, "He was wild on the field: cocky, playful, malicious. It was like the promise of a good drug when Edward challenged him. Edward is smaller than any of us, and in the vampire world he isn't especially strong, which is what piqued James' curiosity. When we banded together for you, he knew he had a challenge. Whether he's killed another vampire before or not, he is ready to at this point."

"How do people become vampires?" Bella asked. Jasper looked at Alice, pulled up short by the question. Alice bit her lower lip and then nodded.

"You should tell her then. I don't think it's right," he said. Then he was back in the corner of the room, watching. Bella hadn't realized that he had been soothing her with his nearness until he was gone. Even the space of a few meters brought a cold edge to her thoughts. She turned back to Alice,

"What does he mean?" she asked.

"Edward doesn't want you to know," Alice said thoughtfully. She was keeping eye contact with Jasper, not looking at Bella.

"Why not?"

"He has his reasons," she said,turning back to face Bella, "and I have my own for why I think you should know." She sat on the bed with Bella and began combing her fingers through the raven hair. The sensation was relaxing, the fingers cool on her scalp. Bella closed her dried out eyes.

"Do you mind if I touch you? I haven't ever had a little sister before," Alice's voice was sweet and soft, and Bella welcomed the friendliness.

"I woke up turned without a mentor. I only had my visions to guide me, and I have no memory of my human life. What I am going to tell you is hearsay, but I heard most of it from Carlisle and he is very trustworthy.

"We have an overabundance of weapons in our arsenal," she began gently, plaiting Bella's hair, "Speed, strength, deadly attraction, immortality. And oddly," she gave a mirthless laugh, "we are venomous."

"Like a snake?" Bella asked.

"I imagine so. We all saw Edward kiss you, and you weren't poisoned so there must be a control to the venom sacs. I've never asked Carlisle for the physiology, but he would know. Our interactions and experiments with humans are limited due to our personal code of ethics," she added.

"The venom isn't deadly," Alice continued, her cool fingers separating the tangled curls, "rather it stuns. It causes a neural pain that seizes the system of our prey, in case they tried to escape. It is absurd, really, nothing can outrun a vampire," Bella was facing away from Alice, which might have made the exchange easier so that Alice couldn't see the tears dripping from Bella's withered eyes. Every time she cried, she thought she had cried herself out, and she was always surprised by how easily the next round of tears came. She was imagining Edward, human, dying of influenza, aware only that his whole family was gone.

"If, like Carlisle, the victim is infected with venom but not outright killed, then the venom will course through the body, altering it. There is unimaginable pain as it wreaks havoc on the human body. So long as the heart continues to pump the venom throughout the system, the change will occur. It depends on where the bite is, how much human blood is left, and how strong the heart is, but it takes an average of three days for the transformation to be complete."

"Carlisle did that to Edward?" Bella asked. Despite the scene of agony in her head, she knew it was the only way she would have ever met him. Was it selfish of her to be grateful to Carlisle?

"Yes," Alice answered, tightly braiding one side of Bella's hair, "but they both wanted Edward to live, and that was the only way.

"I'm glad I can't remember," Alice murmured, as if to herself. "Jasper lived it hundreds of times, and he says it never got easier." If Alice and Jasper could be afraid of that kind of pain Bella didn't want to imagine Edward suffering for those full three days. She remembered Carlisle had to undergo the change while hiding under potatoes and she had a better understanding of Edward's admiration for the man. Could she endure something like that if it were the only way to stay with Edward? Her disjointed mind couldn't answer that question, and it only further unsettled her.

"What happens after the change?" Bella asked. Jasper made a noise as though to protest but Alice continued despite him. She had finished braiding Bella's hair and stroked her cheek, cooling the flushed skin. But Bella was also working to keep herself calm; she knew that if she got too agitated Jasper would intervene.

"That's why we need mentors," Alice said softly, "because when the vampire mind takes over there is still a little human blood left, and the new body feeds off the old. Newborn vampires, then, are at their peak strength, but they are also at their stupidest. They are uncontrollably thirsty and violent. It is therefore understood that any turned vampires must be initiated in some way; they are taught how to cover up their evidence and then left alone.

"But some people slip through the cracks and run feral, like me. Like James. It's insanity for him to take us on over a simple human indiscretion. He can't win."

Bella was quiet. She could feel Jasper pressing sleep upon her. Her mind welcomed the sleep but her body was too agitated to allow it.

"Stop, Jasper." She said quietly, sitting up. "Why haven't we heard anything?"

"Alice, let her sleep or she'll become hysterical." Jasper warned.

"It is good that we haven't heard anything," Alice ignored Jasper, "it means James and Victoria are still following the others, and if they were to contact us it would blow their cover." Bella nodded, trying to swallow the sticky pill of information. It was too large, it lodged in her throat and blocked her breathing.

"I need to shower." Bella said, standing. Her thought processes were too frayed, they bristled like shards of wire. She wanted to help Edward, and a part of her felt that in order to do so she needed to think clearly. But was she capable of that right now? She felt stiff and gross—a grimy machine struggling to function. She could think better in the shower.

In their halcyon days—only a week earlier—Bella had teasingly insinuated that Edward was the least likely to be chivalrous. He had been born in turn-of-the-century Chicago, whereas Carlisle was an old European soul and both Emmett and Jasper were of the high-mannered South. Jasper, who was much older than Emmett, was from an era that clung strongly to ideas of class and gentility. Edward had admitted that he admired Jasper and Carlisle's innate sense of honor, and affected it willingly.

This, combined with the coven's reverence for privacy led Jasper to completely revoked his power over Bella. She began to wake up more with the smell of soap and the power of water.

At first she tried to control herself: James was foolish, taking on the coven. Their numbers insured his defeat. But as she continued to think about their individual faces and their reluctance to do harm, James grew larger in her mind. He could smell traps. He was an animal. He had zealous self-righteousness on his side, tempered by bloody insanity. She imagined Carlisle's instinct to use reason; Edward's dramatic and heroic gestures despite his physical inferiority. Emmett was strong, but he wasn't fast or clever. She had no idea how Esme would fight, but she couldn't even imagine the woman with the Renaissance face angry, let alone violent. Some of her hope rested in Rosalie, who was wild and vicious, but even then, what if Rosalie were hurt?

Besides, Rosalie and Esme were in Forks, guarding Charlie. Bella didn't even know anything about the red-haired vampire. What was her special power? Would she go after Charlie? It almost didn't matter, Bella had already hurt him worse than any vampire could: she had rejected him and torn open his worst wounds.

As her body crumpled under the hot water she felt herself falling backwards, hysterical panic and fear taking over her body. James would trick them. They couldn't escape unharmed—he was too cruel, too clever to go out without a fight. One of them had to die for her. She wasn't worth this kind of sacrifice, especially not after hurting her father that way. Who would die first? Likely the first to challenge him—the fastest and the most brazen: Edward.

Cold hands caught her, gently laying her on the floor of the shower and wrapping her in towels.

She was unable to see through the tears and shower water.

"It's okay, Bella," Alice said, "Edward will be okay. Charlie's going to forgive you."

Bella shook her head, unable to spit out the truth: someone would die for her, and she wasn't worth it.

Alice carried her back to the bed while Bella struggled, weeping.

"Jasper." Alice asked in a flat voice. It was as though morphine entered Bella's blood stream. The panic and fear were still there, but she was so tired, and her exhaustion overpowered her brain. When she fell asleep she only had nightmares.

The two vampires sat watching Bella, holding hands. She was unconscious, but even so she invaded the room. This crippled creature, worth so much trouble, shuddering and weak before them.

"She's not your pawn, Alice," Jasper said. There was no malice in his voice, only resignation.

"I know that," she replied, still staring at the messy girl, "but keeping her ignorant helps no one."

They were both uncomfortable with human emotions, which were heady and confusing enough in their high school setting. Bella was seething, and Jasper could feel it acutely.

"She's in no condition for that, you could have hurt her. You're hurting me, remember." He added. Alice kept her eyes on Bella, gently caressing the invisible scars along her lover's arm.

"This is what love does to us," she murmured, "we are walking gods until this happens. Look at us: chained in a hotel room, protecting this eggshell. James is right, it is ridiculous: we've handicapped ourselves by taking this girl in." Despite her words, Jasper could feel what Alice meant and he understood her better because of that.

"You know what she has done to us." he turned to face his lover, "You and me, we had to suffer to come to our conclusions. She's a kind of reward, even if she scares the hell out of me," he gave a lopsided smile that cut to Alice faster than his words ever could.

"We vowed to protect them," he continued, "now one of them knows that. And she's worth it, she's worth our Edward."

Alice nodded. Jasper had imitated their bond for her, and her own visions wound Edward and Bella together inextricably, though sometimes dangerously. It was worth it, she agreed.

"She'd be the same person if she turned," Alice whispered, "she'd just be able to protect herself better."

"No she wouldn't." Jasper answered, equally quiet. Their conversation tapered off, and the two of them sat together, pondering the delicate morsel heaped on the bed.

hr noshade="noshade" size="1" /

When she awoke again, she was aware of many things simultaneously. The clock told her that her sleeping schedule had completely reversed and she had woken up naturally, which meant Jasper wasn't concentrating on her any more. She also felt shame, remembering that Alice had seen her nakedness and soft, splotchy humanity. Foreboding took over as she realized the two vampires had turned their attention away from her. She felt time slow strangely, like when Tyler's death-cab had been coming at her. There was an inevitability to her path, a quiet grace that led her feet forward.

The two were huddled together, Jasper holding Alice's hand as she stared unseeingly ahead. Bella's world lurched as she let realization flood over her: someone has died. Her horror woke Jasper out of his concentration, and he immediately began to calm her.

"Alice sees something. The tracker has changed."

"The mirrored room and the dark room. He's watching a tape on a VCR. He's waiting. Decisions are yet to be made." Alice's voice was lazy and distant. Jasper refocused on her,

"What is on the tape?" He asked calmly.

"Can't see." Alice replied.

"Is the room dark because it is night?" he continued.

"I don't think so. Everything is blurry. He's waiting."

"What is he waiting for?"

"A decision to be made."

"Can you draw the dark room?" Alice shook her head, no.

"Can you draw the mirrored room?"

"Yes!" She said, straightening, "There are arches, false gold-plate over wood, wooden floors—"

Jasper got her a pen and paper and she began sketching.

"What does this mean?" Bella asked, swallowing a few times to get the words out of her scratchy throat.

"It means the tracker isn't in the woods any longer. He's changed course." Jasper was calm and he lightly touched Bella's shoulder. She felt his influence strengthen over her, but the real relief came in knowing she had been wrong. No one had died, the death-cab had not yet struck.

"No," she protested, "If the others are okay then I'm okay. Help Alice." He let go.

"Shouldn't we call Carlisle, then?" Bella asked, trying to keep herself calm without Jasper. The phone rang as she was finishing the sentence and he stood to answer it. Alice was still sketching, adding shading and shapes.

Bella listened in to Jasper's side of the conversation on the phone. Jasper and Carlisle were talking about a plane, and Jasper was describing Alice's vision. Hope welled in her throat but she was too scared to name its source. Then he turned to look at Bella,

"Please, it would help," he said before holding the phone out to her. Bella's eyes widened and she grabbed at the phone as if it were life itself.

"Hello?" She asked desperately.

"Bella," the voice on the other end was salvation. It hurt her to see feel the unfocused rush of assurance from that one voice. If he could make her so happy with only her name on his lips, she didn't want to imagine the pain of losing him. They had been bound together too quickly; so many parts of herself had become baked into the same clay as Edward.

"Edward, are you okay?" There was a grim chuckle on the other end of the phone.

"I'm the immortal one. Don't worry about me."

"I can't help it," she said unapologetically, "Charlie?"

"He's fine. Rosalie and Esme have the house covered. Victoria has been snooping around Forks, digging for any information she can get but it is scant. She has nothing. We're in Vancouver but James boarded a plane and we lost his trail for a short while. We'll pick him up again later.

"It's my fault, Bella, he stayed far away enough that I couldn't pick up his thoughts." She could hear the cruelty in his voice, she could hear him hating himself.

"Edward, I love you," She said.

"I'm not doing anything to earn that right now," he said bitterly.

"I miss you," she tried.

"I know. Oh my God, do I know," there was a long intake of breath on his end and a painful sigh, "You took half of me with you when you left, Bella."

"Then come and reclaim it." She demanded.

"Not yet, you're safe with Jasper and Alice. I'll come for you soon, though. I do love you, Bella, believe that."

"I do," she was holding back tears but she knew her voice gave her away, "and I'll be waiting." The phone line went dead. He didn't even say goodbye. She hung up the phone crying. When she pulled herself back together again she looked over to Jasper and Alice who were examining pages of sketches. Alice was back.

Bella walked over to be near them and heard her voice croak, "That's a dance studio." Alice looked up, eyes wide, but Jasper was cool.

"Do you recognize it?" He used the same coaxing voice with Bella as he did with Alice.

"The one near Renee's house had similar arches over the doors. And the bathroom would have been through there," she pointed, "but dance studios all look the same. Mirrors, the barre, and a stereo system. Right?" Bella's voice was unconvinced.

"They're very similar, yes." Jasper agreed, "Do you have any reason to visit your old dance studio? Any old friends?"

"No," Bella said honestly, "I haven't been there in ten years. I don't even know if the same teachers are there anymore."

Jasper hummed to himself and Alice turned back to the sketches. Their empty routine returned. Bella ate a sandwich with black coffee. She couldn't stand the television and preferred to stare out at the night sky. After awhile she asked the inevitable,

"Do you think he's coming to Phoenix? To my old dance studio? Victoria could have found my mother's address in the school records."

"It's possible," Alice answered. "But your mother is away with Phil, isn't she?"

"Sometimes they stop in Phoenix to check on the house and grab more supplies before continuing to another game," Bella was trying to remain calm, to prevent Jasper from forcibly calming her again. She needed to be in control for the moment.

"I want to call and leave her a message. Let her know that I'm all right and to have her call me if she goes home. Then we can protect her, too."

Jasper and Alice eyed each other. Reluctantly they agreed, and Alice wrote the number for the hotel room on a sheet of paper for Bella. The conditions were that the message had to be short and that she couldn't give any details of her location. Bella complied, saying into the answering machine that she would explain later and that she was okay. When she hung up the phone the strain of keeping herself calm gave way.

She felt so helpless. She was paired with superheroes who made her feel even more weak. But now these supernatural beings were as vulnerable as her. She had invited this upon herself when she chose Edward. After awhile she asked Jasper for help falling asleep.

hr noshade="noshade" size="1" /

Alice woke her up with a gentle shake.

"Bella?" Bella opened her eyes and saw that Alice was sitting on the side of the bed, papers on her lap.

"Do you recognize this room?" Alice asked, holding up a new drawing.

Bella covered her mouth and Jasper was at her side, his hand on her shoulder to help keep her calm.

"That's my mother's living room," she sobbed. Jasper was keeping her lucid. "What does this mean? What's happening? Is he going to my mother's house?"

"We're one step ahead of him, Bella," Jasper said in his soothing drawl, "We have Alice." Alice was on the phone, dialing a number. When she spoke it was in a low voice and the sound was too fast for Bella to understand. Then Alice nodded to Jasper who turned to look at Bella. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hair in messy braids and her eyes wide. Despite her size, Jasper got the impression of a newly orphaned child. He crouched in front of her, a hand on her knee and his eyes peering into hers.

"Bella," he began in a calming voice, "I promised to protect you as though you were my own sister. I am keeping that promise, do you understand?" She nodded dumbly, "I have to leave for a short while, to check us out of the hotel. You will have to keep yourself calm and pack quickly. It's going to be okay. You're going to see Edward."

"Edward?" Bella's sense of self-preservation had become conflated with Edward's safety. She shook her head, coming back to herself little by little, "But Renee."

"We're sending you to hide with Edward. Alice and I will stay behind to be near Renee's house in case she comes home." Everything Jasper said sounded good and assuring. Bella felt safe in his hands; she would see Edward, and her mother would be protected. He removed his touch, cautiously. He scrutinized her face and when Bella didn't collapse he stood and left the room. She tried to hold onto the sense of calm protection that he had given her. Jasper and Alice could protect Renee. And Renee wasn't even in the state. She would see Edward soon. It would be okay.

As soon as Alice hung up the phone it rang again. When she answered it she said, "She's right here," and handed the phone to Bella.

"Bella?" It was her mother's voice, and she sounded worried. Bella felt relief wash over her to hear Renee's voice again, to be in contact with her. It wasn't the same sort of relief she got from Edward—she felt a desperate loss of control with him—but it felt good to hear Renee. Her mother's worried voice inspired a sort of muscle memory in Bella, and she found herself gratefully taking on the worn role of comforting parent. It was a meager, pithy control, but at least she had something to hold on to.

"Mom! I'm okay, calm down. I'm all right."

"Bella!" her mother called again, but then a new voice came on the line. "Say, 'Hold on for a second,'" the voice said. Bella could hear a smile in the edges of that voice, it then added, "and move somewhere so you can be alone. Don't say anything else until I tell you."

The voice was amused and commanding, and Bella recognized it immediately: James. She had difficulty lying in normal situations, but as the blood drained from her she heard the weakness of her own voice, "Hold on for a second," then she turned her back on Alice and stretched to the full length of the phone cord. Miraculously and unfortunately, Alice recognized this human gesture and excused herself to give Bella privacy. It was the one human comfort that the vampires could appreciate, and something they rarely experienced.

"I don't want to hurt your mother," James said. Then he chuckled, "Okay, that's a lie. But I _promise_ that I won't hurt her if you are nice and do what I say. So please, don't say anything unless I tell you to."

Bella couldn't breathe.

"Very good!" he patronized, "Now say, 'No, Mom, stay with Phil.' Okay?" He did a mocking interpretation of Bella's voice, high and whining.

"No, Mom, stay with Phil," Bella repeated numbly.

"Oh, that wasn't very convincing." He sulked, "How about, 'Please listen to me.'"

"Please," Bella's voice caught and she swallowed, "listen to me."

"Much better," he said, "Now, 'Really, Mom, I want to be alone.' Remember, Renee is counting on your acting."

"Really, Mom," Bella found herself holding back a sob, "I want to be alone."

"Fantastic, Bella! Are you alone now? Answer just 'yes' or 'no' please,"

"Yes." Bella's voice trembled as her mind began regain ground. When she was six she had torn off her thumbnail while trying to climb a tree, in that moment of pain and horror she had become utterly calm and began to calculate what she would do. Since then, occasions would arise where Bella, despite fear, a broken wrist, or a scary amount of blood, would be overwhelmed with lucid, icy calm. This happened now.

"Where's Phil?" she asked, breaking the rules.

"Oh, Bella, it sound like you don't care about your mother's well-being at all. Be a good girl and don't speak until spoken to. When I get off the phone, I'm going to have to punish your mother. Just a little," he purred, "maybe I'll tear off her ear or pulverize her pretty little foot."

Bella couldn't hold back a sob of revulsion, but she didn't speak again.

"Good. I'm going to need you to escape those over-protective vampires you are with; can you do that? Just yes or no, please."

Bella's mind raced. It would be impossible to escape a vampire even if she were in good shape—not to mention Alice would see anything she planned. "No." Her voice was void of emotion.

"That's too bad, I thought you cared more about your mother. Her daughter really doesn't love her at all. After I snap her fingers perhaps I'll devein her delicate hands, like a shrimp. Twirl them around like spaghetti, hmm?" He had a cruel and playful voice. Bella's hands shook as her terrible imagination played the scene behind her eyes.

"It's amazing how long the body will keep itself alive. Now, I'll ask one more time. Can you escape your babysitters?"

Bella had to lie and figure it out later. "Yes," she said. Her brain shifted from scenes of torture to planning. She had to escape them. She had to do something impossible.

"Great. You'll need to be alone. If you are not alone, then you will have only won your mother a swift and somewhat-less-painful death. Come home, darling. There will be a note on the fridge waiting for you. Can you be here in the next 24 hours?"

"Yes," Bella's voice was breaking, but she had to hold herself together. For Renee.

"Sounds like this conversation is ending now, Bella. I'll see you soon," his voice was polite, friendly, "Goodbye."

It took Bella a full minute to hang up the phone. What was she going to do? When she walked into the other room Alice had already packed all of Bella's clothes again.

"Is your mother in Phoenix?" Alice asked anxiously.

"No," Bella's voice trembled a little but she wrapped an arm around her middle, holding herself together, "I'm terrible at lying, Alice."

"It's okay," Alice smiled, "You won't have to for much longer. We're going to meet Edward at the airport and hand you off to him, okay?" Bella's mind had been working. She nodded dumbly, beginning to plan ways to lose Jasper and Alice long enough at the airport in order to get back home. Then she remembered Edward. She would be so close to him, but she knew if she saw him that her resolve would fail. No, she would never see Edward again. She hated to do this to him, but she had no other choices.

"Alice, if I write my mother a letter, will you deliver it for her? It helps explain some things. I probably won't be able to contact her when I'm with Edward."

"Sure, Bella," Alice's voice was distracted. Bella scribbled a fast note, wishing she had more time.

_Edward,_

_Edward, I love you. You need to know that I do honestly love you. But James has my mother and I have to do something. I won't win. But maybe I can save her. I have to try. Please forgive Alice and Jasper, they tried to protect me and they did their best. Please forgive yourself. For everything._

_Love eternally,_

_Bella._

She folded it, sealing it in the provided envelopes from the hotel's stationery kit. Edward would eventually receive it. As she handed it to Alice, Alice flinched.

"Alice?" Bella asked, worried. Alice stared uncomprehendingly at Bella, her eyes eventually focusing and sharpening. Alice was far shorter than Bella, with pert features and defined lips. She had a sweet face framed by cropped black hair and calligraphy eyebrows. When she wasn't giggling or fluttering, her high-contrast features turned imposing. The burnt-sugar color of her eyes were fully turned on Bella, seeing more than just the haggard, overweight seventeen-year-old. Bella felt naked. She couldn't hide herself from Alice, there was no way she would succeed. Renee would die.

"It's nothing," Alice blinked. "I'll give the letter to Renee if I see her," she added. Then they were heading down to the lobby to meet Jasper


	20. How Bella Dies

Bella had prepared a way to elude the two of them. She would get Jasper to help her look for food at the airport and then escape to the bathroom. There was one particular bathroom with two exits, and if she ran, she could be out of the airport and into a taxi before they got suspicious. The crowds would force Alice and Jasper to move at human speed. Once in the taxi her scent would be gone. She could imagine Edward standing at a line of taxis, where her trail ended. She pushed the image away. She noticed a puzzled expression on Jasper's face; she was calming herself now, not needing him. The threat of her mother's death and the pressure building around her had chilled Bella's blood. She had become mechanical in order to deal with the task at hand.

After they got through security Bella asked Jasper to accompany her as she went looking for food. He looked to Alice for advice, and Bella's facade nearly slipped—but Alice gave a cool nod. Bella was focused on her task at hand she had to fool Jasper: she focused on her anxiety. He mistook her agitation for anticipation and began assuring her that she would see Edward soon enough. He also took it upon himself to warn her of the possible "withdrawal" effects when they would part—it wouldn't be anything physical like a drug, but she would have to consciously calm herself.

Bella greedily drank in his drugging cloud, shoring herself up against the impending hysteria. She let Jasper talk.

"You're worth it," he said, breaking her concentration.

"What?" She asked.

"I never really apologized to you for what I did the other day," he began, "I thought you were too fragile and weak to be enough for our Edward. But I am sorry, I was wrong. You're it. You are his, you are ours, and now we are yours. Bella," Jasper said, "you are worth our protection. You are our family now, and we will keep you safe. I can feel that you don't believe me, but you should."

There was nothing she could say to this without breaking from her plan. Bella just nodded with a weak smile. She took a final dose of calm and excused herself to the double-exit bathroom, shutting off her emotions. She would have to be an automaton now.

The plan pulled off without a hitch, as though fate—and Alice—had conspired to help Bella escape the airport. The only problem was that she was so winded by the time she reached the line of taxis that she could barely call out an address. She slouched in the backseat panting hard and trying to call out the street name. Where once were her lungs was now only fire. The cabbie handed her a GPS so she could plug it in for herself and she managed to yell, "Drive!" and hand him a fistful of twenties, all the money she had. Too much money for him.

She wouldn't need money much longer any way. She put the coordinates into the GPS and stared out the rear window, afraid to see Jasper or—worse—Edward running after her. But no one came. Was that relief or despair that choked her throat? She tried to calm her breathing. She tried not to think about the fact that her childhood home was now a stop along the route to certain death.

The cabbie, wisely, did not try to strike up any conversation.

What do people think about when they are faced with death? Bella did not think of anything. She couldn't afford to let anything in, her heart was faint enough with the idea of a young death. She mechanized her thoughts: get to house. Get to dance studio, or wherever James is holding Renee. Broker some kind of deal where Renee can escape and Bella stays behind. Renee wasn't a part of this, Bella was the real pawn: he'd take her, wouldn't he?

Bella had never run so much. She had a good idea what the note on the fridge would say, but she had to see it anyway. She burst wild-eyed into the house using the hide-a-key, and confirmed her suspicions. The dance studio was less than a mile away, but Bella had never successfully run a mile in her whole life.

Her pants wouldn't stay up. Her feet were clumsy and she fell twice. She could feel the cumbersome weight of her body crashing atop her knees as she ran. Her mother was counting on her, her mother was being tortured by an in-human beast. Despite this, Bella found herself walking, her lungs burning, her brain full of blood. She was crying in frustration and anger, trying to force her seized legs to go faster. She was failing at being an automaton, she was not a machine, not fluid or expert. She was a shambling mess, and it was killing Renee.

Eventually, after what felt like decades of starts and stops, she reached the front of the dance studio. It had been closed down earlier that year, but the door was unlocked. Her only memories of the studio were of humiliation. Even as a child, she knew she was too big. The cute leotards for the other girls did not fit her corpulent body. Her ungainly height and weight obviated any grace she may have inherited from lovely Renee. Physical shame flooded back, screaming at her fat body as she lumbered down dark hallways, letting her mother down all over again. She didn't hear any screams, but the sound of blood in her own ears may have drowned out any moaning or cries for help.

James was waiting for her. There were fluorescent pink notes welcoming her and helpfully directing her through the hallways. She shuffled at her fastest speed, not needing the notes to know where she was going, but drawn to look at them anyway. James had punctuated the notes with smiley-faces and cartoon arrows. As she opened the door to the main studio she heard her mother's voice calling her name,

"Bella? Bella!"

"Mom! I'm here! I'm here, Mom!" Bella was breathless but she had to keep running, running towards the sound.

"Boo!" came a voice, but it wasn't James or Renee. It was Bella: twelve years ago.

"Oh, Bella! You scared me! I couldn't find you anywhere!" came Renee's voice. Bella froze, seeing the source of the sound: a television. It was an old tape Bella had made as a child, when she hid in a closet to scare her mom. She had been fooled.

James' voice came in a laughing taunt from nowhere in particular and Bella could barely hear it over her own panting. She was going to die for nothing now. She had been tricked. When her eyes finally found James he was holding their family's old camcorder.

"Oops!" He smiled in mock chagrin, "Fooled you." James' sneer marred his perfect angel-face.

"I borrowed this because I think your parents would love to see what their daughter looked like in her final moments of life." He made an amused tsk-ing sound, "You look pretty awful, even by human standards. C'mon, Bella, smile for them. And for Edward; that freak will see this first."

"Why are you doing this?" Bella pleaded, her bones melting into liquid from fear and exertion. James approached her, angelic and benevlolent. His ravenous red eyes looked her up and down.

"They'll find you. You couldn't really escape them, look at you!" He hummed appreciatively, "Though I do thank you for oxygenating that blood for me. I can hear all that lovely liquid, frothing and foaming just for me. But," he gave a seductive smile and stepped closer, "I can have a little fun before they show up. Really get those pacifists mad," he was snarling and laughing.

Bella tried to argue, to stand up for the Cullens and use them as a threat, but James moved too fast. He grabbed Bella by the throat, something she had seen in movies. She felt her feet leave the ground, her esophagus close and pinch, and pressure build in her skull as her full weight pulled on her neck. Her jawbone rested on his cold hands, and she thought her head might pop like a champagne cork.

"They deserve to see their errors," James purred, filming her with the hand that wasn't choking her. He turned the camera towards his face and said, "Hey Edward, watch this. Your girlfriend can fly."

Then he threw Bella across the studio. The force against her head and throat nearly crushed her windpipe, and she was eerily quiet as she sailed through the air, unable to scream. She hit a mirrored wall, her back taking most of the impact, glass falling around her body as she crumpled to the floor. She gasped and gagged, clutching her throat, trying to get it working again. Wheezes of air passed into her lungs, but it wasn't enough. Pain seized her body and she realized she'd been cut all over from the glass, and a full gasp finally broke gulps of air into her throat.

"Whoops," James chuckled, "looks like I spilled a little. Mmm," he chuckled, bringing the camcorder towards her, "that smells delicious. Not my favorite, but I can see why you enjoy her so much. It'll be hard to leave enough of her behind for anyone to identify," he laughed. There was a desire in his glinting red eyes that was almost sexual, and it made Bella feel naked and wronged. "Well," he hummed, "the video will be enough evidence, so I guess I don't have to hold back."

"Why me?" Bella blurted through a wheezing windpipe. He was dramatic, perhaps she could keep him talking, hold off the inevitable. At first James was annoyed, like an adult interrupted by a needy child. But then his square jaw turned into a beautiful smile, and he was handsome and trustworthy again.

"Unfinished business," he said with a raised eyebrow. He smoothed his features for the camera, giving his best courtroom expression before panning across Bella's fragile, frightened body.

"Exhibit A," he began, "the pathetic remains of another Vampire-Human relationship. Weren't we told not to play with our food? Do we not yet realize the repercussions of stooping to such low levels of baseness and banality?

"Your honor," he strolled around Bella's body, occasionally aiming a kick to her breakable ribs or stepping on her fingers for his own amusement, "I would like to bring into admission Exhibit B, a quaint story with a relevant moral."

James' mugging and monologuing might buy Bella some time, but he was still breaking her bones, still toying with his food. She remembered what he had said about how long the human body can survive torture—maybe she didn't want to hold off the inevitable. But he was on a roll and she didn't dare interrupt yet, even if it would bring a swifter conclusion.

"Once there was a brilliant vampire doctor who had infiltrated a sanitorium. What a great idea! He had fish in a barrel, he could pick them off whenever the state got tired of supporting those crazies. Naturally, he was fat and happy, and an admirable example of our race. But then," he shook his head and stepped on Bella' hair, tearing some of it out from the roots, "he became fascinated by one particular morsel. He didn't play with her like I am with you, little Bella," he crooned before turning back to the camera, "No, he was in love with that trash. She tempted him to regret his godliness. So I offered to remove the temptation: she would make a fine meal, and teach him a good lesson.

"The fool changed her before I could snack. It's no fun when they are one of us, so I stopped pursuing her. But I killed him for good measure. Most wild vampires get discovered and hustled off by the Volturi in no time, so I was quite surprised to see your filthy coven has taken her in. It got me thinking about my unfinished business, about a statement that needs to be made…"

He crouched, grinning and wild, beside Bella. He looked her up and down and gave a dramatic sigh. Taking a shard of mirrored glass he stabbed it into Bella's thigh, jamming and twisting. "This," he shouted in demonic glee, "is why we don't name our pets!"

Bella's broken fingers curled and grasped at nothing as her back arched and her body let out a shuddering scream.

"Where are they?" James asked petulantly, a bored child digging a stick into the dirt. He licked his fingers and a thirsty rasp escaped his mouth as he burned from the perfume.

"You know," he licked his lips, "I think you're starting to grow on me. It's a sort of complicated bouquet."

Bella choked on wet silence, her curdling scream had caught in her ragged throat, and her weak lungs gave out. As she struggled and choked, trying to pull her maimed body into a fetal position and pressing the palms of her hands near the wound in her leg, James stood.

"This is getting boring," he sighed, "I only have so much patience." He placed a foot firmly on Bella's shin below the knee and grabbed her ankle with his free hand, the camera focusing on her leg.

"You guys are taking too long," he sang into the camera before wrenching upward, snapping Bella's leg.

There was an empty space before the pain arrived, a nanosecond where Bella knew that so long as she were mortal she would never be safe with a secret. She would tell James anything he wanted to know if he would stop. But then the pain hit, and it was ruthless. It wasn't sharp and defined like the stabbing, but existential. Her whole body was pain. If she were lucky she would pass out, but she remained conscious, hearing the friendly laugh of James as he played with her fragile flesh.

Bella's voice was back, and she let forth a bloody and wet scream, a scream utterly foreign to her ears. It was a sound full of blood and soft flesh. It rippled and ripped, tearing at her throat and clawing her tender windpipe.

There was a dull thud and James' laughter was cut short. She heard the camcorder skitter across the wood floor. Something was changing, but it didn't matter because the pain was the same. She was useless, she could not feel anything but ripping, screaming, agony. And then he dropped her. A fuzzy piece of Bella realized Edward was here, trying to save her, and failing. She landed on her other side: Edward tried to protect the break in her leg, but the force still rattled her snapped bone.

James had swept Edward's legs out from beneath him. He was stronger than Edward and guessed that the others were still far behind, Edward being the fastest. He threw Edward to the other end of the studio and grabbed Bella by the wrist, pausing long enough for Edward to clearly see the next move. He sunk his snake-teeth into Bella's pretty flesh and drank, releasing the venomous saliva into her bloodstream. He did what Edward had always wanted. He was stealing her away from him.

Edward pummeled James off Bella, screaming in a high keen like a banshee. The windows and mirrors trembled with the peals of rage. Bella's spine arched in shudders of torment, and she was frighteningly aware of the sounds around her. The gurgling, shredded screams coming from her broken throat mingled with Edward's rage, and she mistook the music for the sound of the venom, setting her arm into a crackling blaze. There was a rock-hammering sound as Edward rapidly beat his fists against James' face, trying to break the head from its neck. He was insane, clawing and indiscriminate in his harm. When Emmett pulled Edward off James, Edward attacked Emmett, too. The whole coven had arrived by then, and with help they were able to quickly subdue both Edward and James. James was still laughing, spitting Bella's blood in Edward's face and yelling filthy obscenities about her.

Carlisle's voice was calm despite Bella's constant screaming and Edward's eerie keen.

"Jasper, calm Edward. Alice: remove the head." The movements were all quick. As Alice and the Cullens dismembered James, who was still laughing, Jasper worked quickly on Edward. It was as though he had been exorcised. He was Edward again, rattled but sane.

"Bella!" He shouted, "Carlisle, he bit Bella!"

Carlisle was making a tourniquet for Bella's leg and trying to talk to her, but she was caught in horror. The break in her leg and the bubbling fire under her skin kept her painfully lucid, shock and unconsciousness never arriving. Let me die, let me die, let me die, she thought in a blurred mantra. Jasper had to distance himself from her half-dying torment and the stench of blood. He and the others collected the broken vampire pieces and brought them to another room for burning. Only the three were left.

"Edward, this is the time. You can let her change or you can save her."

"Damn it, Carlisle, you save her! We can't let her become one of us."

"She's changing, Edward. Make the decision."

"I won't let her change!" He roared, his high keen having changed to a throaty growl.

"Then you have to do this, you have to save her." Carlisle urged, "We're losing time!"

"Why can't you save her?" Edward moaned, cradling Bella's feverish head in his hands.

"Edward, you can do this. Pull out the venom."

Alone with his father and his dying love, Edward closed his eyes. He brought Bella's mangled wrist to his mouth. Half a week ago, they had been in his meadow, and he let his lips touch the delicate skin above her veins. Now those veins were burst and boiling with venom. He made a seal with his lips and drew in the blood through the bite, tasting James' venom and the singular pleasure of Bella.

It was better than he had even anticipated. The taste of Bella caressed his marble infrastructure and smoothed it back into muscle. He could see it clearly, he felt the impossible happening. Bella was giving him back warmth and life, mortality and age. Her blood, he imagined, was curing him. She was pulling him back to humanity.

"Edward, her blood is clean. Stop." Carlisle's voice was even.

If he could just fill his insides with her, rinse himself with her blood, he would be human again. He could feel the sinews and muscles rebuilding themselves. He would be alive. Her blood would grant him this one wish. It felt right and sacred, as though he were going through ablutions, purifying his putrid corpse.

"Edward." Carlisle's voice.

He would be alive without Bella. Because he was killing her; Edward was killing Bella.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>__ Don't you just love it when everything goes wrong?_


	21. Epilogue: The final finale

**_Author's Note: _**_I hope I made you fall in love with this Edward, because he is still going to be a total $$hat and break up with Bella in the next book. The good news? That hot piece of man-flesh known as Jacob Black shows up, and he, too must authentically engage with this fumbling, fat Bella. **Running With Wolves** is my favorite of the stories and I hope you read on to see why!_

**Part the eighth: Epilogue**

Edward was sitting at the Swan's kitchen table. Though he couldn't clearly read Chief Swan's thoughts, he was keenly aware of the animosity and menace emanating from the frail human. Regardless, Edward felt real fear in the presence of this man.

They heard a familiar arrhythmic clumping sound. Bella, with a heavy cast on her leg, was coming down the stairs. Edward stood too abruptly and knocked his chair backward. He was at the bottom of the stairs, then scaling them two at a time to offer her a hand as she made her way down.

Her time in the wheelchair had been shorter than anticipated. It was only by her own insistence that she got out of that wheelchair—until she was on crutches she couldn't sleep in her own room but had to make do on the living room recliner. That meant long stretches of time without the crucial privacy she needed with Edward. Charlie wouldn't let her out of sight anymore, and he often slept on the couch in case she needed help in the night. Alice had offered her services as a caretaker—being the only person besides Bella's doctor to see the giant girl completely naked.

Charlie was extremely grateful to Alice for that. He was also grateful to Carlisle who had treated Bella's break after her exceptionally clumsy fall off a fire escape. Between Alice and Carlisle, Charlie had managed to give Edward another shot, though the air was always tense. The Blacks also hadn't been around since she returned, even though Bella had jokingly mentioned having a wheelchair race with Billy. Despite Bella's pretending, nothing had returned to normal.

Still, she did her best to play down the shock and drama of that cursed Spring break. In the past few weeks she had been fitted for a cast. _Just in time for prom!_ the doctor had told her cheerily. This was part of the act, part of their attempts to cover-up a complicated trauma. Bella, against her better intentions, had to slough off responsibility of her own actions. She cloaked herself in the dizzy-hormone excuse of being a teenager in love: _Sorry, Dad. I don't know what came over me._ It was pretty lame, and it made her feel shallow. She had never been that irrational adolescent, and she knew Charlie didn't fully buy it. Edward told her that Charlie had searched her room for mind-altering drugs.

Tonight she was wearing a dress designed by Alice. It had capped sleeves and a scooped, open neckline which showcased her frail clavicle—only her wrists, ankles and collar bones were delicate. Alice's designs often tried to feature these elements, alway complimenting Bella's better attributes. Like most of Alice's designs for Bella it had a defined waist with a ribbon sash. It was slimming dark green with black trim. Black also matched the boot on her cast. She wore a flower corsage over the scar on her arm and her jet hair tumbled Rapunzel-like down her open back.

"You're looking lovely, Bella," Charlie allowed. "You call me if you need a ride home."

"I'll take care of her, Chief Swan," Edward said warmly. Charlie ignored him, having heard this line before. "Is Dr. Cullen going to be chaperoning the prom?" He asked Bella.

"No, but it would be a good idea for next year," she said kindly. She was antsy to leave so she could shrill at Edward. He forced her to go through with this senseless ritual, not just for their cover but because he honestly believed she _needed_ it. He insisted on picking her up, going through the American traditions of corsage, limousine, watching her descent from a staircase, etc. She managed to talk him out of the limo.

She had been confined to the Phoenix hospital for a few days before returning to Forks. Carlisle made a good impression on the hospital staff and had treated and dressed Bella's bite wound until it more resembled an older injury. The vampire venom made the mark scar prematurely, and the doctors regarded Bella as a suicidal runaway. They were sure to call Renee back to Phoenix as quickly as possible. Charlie was bound by work to remain in Forks for that week, but Bella guessed he was also afraid of Bella, especially in the presence of Renee. Her mother chatted daily by her bedside, completely understanding Bella's impulsive emotions. She mentioned that she was worried by the arson to the dance studio nearby and she and Phil were thinking of leaving Phoenix due to the recent crime. Edward and Carlisle met Renee at the hospital and successfully charmed her, but his magic was useless on Charlie.

"I'll be home early, Dad," she added warmly. Despite all that she had been though, she knew she had to treat Charlie gingerly. A trust had been breached and it would take her a long time to earn it back. She only hoped he would forgive Edward. She still planned on spending her life with him.

Edward helped her into the Volvo. She had wanted to take the truck, but until she could use her clutch foot again she wasn't driving. Again, the car was the only place where the two of them could be alone. But Edward refused to take advantage of their privacy, keeping himself physically and emotionally distant from Bella.

Even though Edward had proved that he could stop himself he acted as though the opposite had happened. Carlisle hadn't pulled him away, it was Edward who let her live. But Edward had been on edge ever since he'd tasted her blood. He had mangled her, scarred her, broken her, and he took all her pain upon himself. So she she treated him gently as well. Sometimes it pissed her off.

Like right now.

"I'd like to point out that I'm the victim in all of this, yet I still have to suffer through the embarrassment of prom."

"It won't be an embarrassment. You are lovely. Besides, you can finally show those idiots how beautiful you are." Edward said calmly. There was an edge to his voice, cruel and full of hatred for_those idiots_.

"They wouldn't see it. They'll just see you and how cumbersome I am attached to you." Edward let out a growl of disapproval. He was tied up in anger, and it took all his strength not to dismember the students who thought ill of Bella.

"How cumbersome I _look_ attached to you," Bella amended.

"It's a rite of passage. You'll thank me later." Edward said stiffly.

"Edward," Bella said gently, wanting to say something deeper. But the moment was all wrong. It had been difficult to talk about what happened and the more time that passed the harder it would get. Well, I'll make him listen, Bella decided. She wasn't planning on having any fun at prom any way, she might as well get something useful out of it.

They pulled up to the high school. In Forks, prom was almost always hosted in the gym. The weather had turned out nice enough that the football field had been acquired for the prom. Dance floors were laid atop the grass and tents with Christmas lights burst with music, food, and non-alcoholic beverages.

Edward was helping Bella out of the car and she put her hand to his face, making him look her in the eyes.

"Edward, look at me." Her voice was gentle, "Thank you." She let the words sink in, even bringing one of his hands to touch the scar on her arm. The scar that was slightly cooler than the rest of her body.

"No," Edward pulled his hand back in disgust, "Don't thank me for putting you in that position."

"I chose it. I still choose you. You have to accept that. Listen to me." She was unrelenting, "I love you. Deal with it." The whole experience had obviously been traumatizing for Bella, but there was no one she could confess in. Edward's weakness made her force a bravado that she didn't fully believe. She did love him, even still, even after all that danger. If anything, she loved him more than she had before—she was more sure that he was _the one_. But it didn't mean she was glad about anything that happened, only that he had saved her.

Edward was shaking his head, "No," he was muttering.

"You don't believe that I love you?"

"I just don't understand it," he said. They were still beside the car. Bella put her hand up, splaying the fingers. Edward gingerly touched his fingertips to her own, then pressing the palm against her warm hand.

"You just have to trust me," Bella said, putting her forehead against Edward's and whispering. "Remember? Partners. I'll believe you if you believe me. Believe that I know what I am saying when I love you. I have to trust that you love this moldering corpse of mine." She gave a short laugh.

Edward wrinkled his forehead. Bella had been using more derogatory terms for her body since the incident. She was more ashamed of her limits than before. He loved her body and her humanness, to hear her disparage it time and again hurt him.

"Don't say that. You aren't a corpse, Bella," His voice had enough weariness in it that she felt stung.

"But I'm broken," she said, her voice trembling more than she had wanted. Edward soothed her, stroking her hair and bringing her into a warm embrace. They hadn't been allowed to be alone together outside of school since the incident, and this was the first time they'd been able to be open. After she got the cast, Edward sometimes crept into her room at night to help Bella fall asleep, but he felt guilty and resisted anything that made him happy. Still, here together they see-sawed: Bella would pretend to be strong for him, bolstering and solid. Then, once Edward was on his feet again, Bella could confess her own weakness and he would hold her up.

Their embrace, even without a kiss, was so moving that Bella's shoulders shook with a little sob. She was glad that she had turned down Alice's make-up suggestions.

"You aren't broken," Edward whispered, pressing his cheek to hers, letting his fingers trace her spine, "you're just different from me. I envy you, Bella." She choked back tears. Now wasn't the time for crying.

"Kiss me," she asked. Her request was so pathetic, her situation so vulnerable that Edward didn't have the heart to refuse her or his own pleasure. He put his mouth to hers, breathing her in, exhaling his own sweetness against her face. Bella controlled herself better, concentrating too hard on not breaking into tears again. They parted with light, small kisses.

"Okay," Bella swallowed, clearing her throat and trying to put on a smile, "you can finally show me how to waltz." Edward smiled, a genuine smile she hadn't seen in months. He put his arm around her waist and lifted slightly so that she wouldn't have to put as much weight on her foot. She gave a little laugh, still surprised whenever he handled her burden so easily. As they approached the party a figure peeled away from the shadows of the building and blocked their path.

He scared Bella at first, her memory flashing back to the drunk college kids back in Silverdale. Then she laughed, pleasantly surprised,

"Jacob! Did you get a date here?"

He smiled and his eyes flitted to Edward. A warm flush brightened his skin and Edward politely excused himself.

"No, actually my dad paid me to come see you."

"What?" Bella asked, feeling awkward now that she had to stand on her own weight, in a parking lot, in a fancy dress. There was coldness where once there had been Edward.

"I'm sorry, Bella. It's really embarrassing but—"

"You've grown since I last saw you," Bella noted abruptly.

"Yeah, it's called a growth spurt," he laughed, "but seriously, Bella, Dad wants me to pass on a message." Bella had a bad feeling about where this was going.

"Why couldn't he tell me this himself?" Bella asked with a tinge of anger in her voice.

"Can I just get this over with? It's as bad for me as it is for you," he looked ashamed and Bella was angry with Billy for putting Jacob in the middle.

"Is it about Edward?" She asked.

"Yeah, he told me to tell you that you should dump him."

"Next." She said dismissively.

"What?" Jacob was startled by her short tone.

"I said 'next', what's the next part of the message? I'm not leaving Edward. He should know that."

Jacob's eyes dropped away from Bella. She realized that he must have been nearly 6'4 by now. She had grown quickly, but he was growing before her very eyes. He had easily outgrown his parents, and Bella knew how that felt. It softened her a little, but she was still mad at Billy.

"The next part is too ridiculous, I'm sorry," he apologized and moved as if to leave.

"How much is he paying you for the full message?" Bella asked, her tone less acidic.

"Fifty bucks," Jacob murmured abashedly.

"Well, I won't screw you out of new parts for your dream car," she smiled, "Let me have it. I'm sorry, I won't shoot the messenger."

"He said," he shook his head, forcing the words out, "quote: We'll be watching you. Unquote." He forced a laugh.

Bella joined in, letting a giggle rise up. It relaxed Jacob and she smiled.

"Okay, your dad is crazysauce," she said. "Are you staying for the prom?"

"Uh, no," he said even though he was wearing an untucked button-down shirt and black slacks. He had a poorly-tied necktie on as well, but no jacket. He'd carefully pulled his hair into a ponytail, and Bella guessed that this was his best attempt at formal wear.

"I don't have a date," he said softly, "except with my car, I guess." He added lamely. Then he looked past Bella, "Plus, Edward looks like he wants you back."

"Wait," Bella stopped Jacob before he could disappear again, "give me a hug, big guy. I miss you. Next time you stop by, don't bring your dad," She reached forward to hug him and was bewildered when her feet left the ground. What the hell?

"Jesus, Jake!" She had to control the volume of her voice, "What are you eating?" He blushed charmingly, setting her down. "You look nice tonight," He shrugged, as if that was an answer. He was thin and tall, but his broad shoulders belied his skinny frame. Like a puppy with over-sized paws, Bella could see that in a few years Jacob would be filled out and massive: how could he be so shy? She wanted him to stay, to help him relax, but he was insistent upon leaving. He turned and jogged towards Billy's pick-up in the parking lot. Bella was confused by the entire exchange, but Edward was soon by her side again.

"Billy Black telling you to stay away from me again?" He guessed.

"Did you read Jacob's thoughts?" Bella felt defensive for Jacob, Edward didn't seem to like him much, though he remained polite.

"His head's mostly empty anyway," Edward lied. Then, "Come on, I'm going to make you waltz." He shouldered some of her weight and they moved toward the dance floor. He held her delicately, as though she were porcelain. He turned on all his charm and dazzle to keep Bella's focus on him, rather than the gawking peers who clustered by the punch bowl.

She was still just seventeen, and so was Edward. They had time, she told herself. But that is what they had thought before James showed up.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Author's Note: <em>**_Thank you for reading book one in the Bella Swan is Fat and Ugly tetrology. _

_Next up: **Running with Wolves**, a re-hash of New Moon except with a more mature Jacob and a kick-ass Bella. _

_Following that is _**Semper Augustus**_, the re-working of Eclipse and a chance for me to really earn that M rating!_


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